


Colors

by Beatonen



Category: RWBY
Genre: F/F, Two OCs this time, Weiss is a soul full of sorrow that I like to torture, kinda slow burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:20:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 43,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27600605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beatonen/pseuds/Beatonen
Summary: Years after the end of the Great War leading to the heroic death of her beloved partner, Weiss decides to roam the world, trying to find a purpose that will sooth the anguish plaguing her. Leaving behind her best friend and her lover, it took almost a decade for her to accidentally stumble upon them again.And when she did, her life was changed forever.
Relationships: Weiss Schnee/Yang Xiao Long
Comments: 10
Kudos: 63





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hellooo! Have this for absolutely no reason! I thought about it one day and I was like 'Imma write it' and then I did! Incredible!

Sometimes, she couldn’t remember why she did the things she did. Some other times, she just tried to ignore the reasons. Why she was still marching on, why she decided to leave, why she was enduring this solitude that reminded her so much of her childhood…

Her breath came out in a cloud as she finally climbed the snowy, soft hill, and she stopped, eyeing her surroundings. The wind was relentless, whipping her hair back in her face as soon as she brushed them out of the way and freezing her all the way to her bones, no matter the amount of layers she wore.

She was no stranger of Solitas’ tundra, having experienced it herself a couple of times before, but the other times she came prepared, already knowing in advance what she came to do and how long her stay would be.

Now, however, she felt a bit underdressed as she came in the middle of a record-breaking freezing winter, stumbling in the snow to follow her mark.

She remembered the tales, about this place. How, at night, hunting polar bears became easier, because everything that the moon’s rays touched made it almost glow in the dark, lighting it like a beacon in the night. How this place should not be taken lightly, how only the bravest souls ever came back from the deepest parts of the tundra.

But her presence here had nothing to do with bravery, on the contrary. Some may call it that, to follow her mark, one of the oldest King Taijitu she had ever seen, all the way here from deeper, safer lands. But what motivated her wasn’t as spirited as this, nor as noble, too, for she kept pressing on with anger boiling in her veins and rage burning in her eyes.

No, her presence here was for the ugliest reason of them all. Vengeance.

“Come out!” She roared, her voice raspy from misuse and dehydration, but she still felt her frozen, cracked lips pull in a snarl as she glared at her surroundings, searching for the beast. “I know you’re here somewhere!”

When only the wind howling responded her, she growled in frustration but still urged her tired legs to march on, following the quickly fading tracks of the heavy Grimm in the snow and ice.

“Am I not oozing negative emotions enough for you?” She yelled again to the wind, not really knowing why she cared or why she bothered. She figured it was because she was so goddamn tired of not talking to anyone. “Am I not enough?”

A low, unearthly growl sounded, shaking the lands and the freezing air as she smiled, not at all impressed by the threat. As the snow in front of her moved, a loud and angry hiss reached her ears, it was all she needed to draw her blade, a dangerous and malevolent feeling twisting and curling in the pit of her stomach, writhing and hissing just as much as the Grimm in front of her.

As the King Taijitu rose to its full height, easily dwarfing her as it raised its two heads to stare down at her, glaring with glowing red eyes, she caught a flash of color near its mouth, and she felt her mouth twist in fury, her eyes focusing on her objective as her hand closed on nothing over her right shoulder.

All she could feel was the torn parts of fabric that this bright red cloak belonged to.

“Give it back!” She roared, even though she knew it probably didn’t even know it had taken the last remnant of her partner with it.

She didn’t really know who charged first. Everything smudged to a blur after that, and she let herself be consumed by her rage, her vision closing in on itself until all she could see was black.

****

She wondered sometimes how she was still alive. She knew she was growing more and more reckless through the years, forgetting along the way what it meant to be careful, trading calculated strikes for brash, powerful ones, and she felt ashamed whenever she let herself be submerged by rage to the point where she couldn’t remember her fights.

There was something broken within her, and she didn’t quite know what it was or when it happened. Maybe that was why she left still, even though she had a happy life with the woman she loved.

The thought brought pain, always, even though she knew it was well deserved. She knew the way she had left was nothing but cowardly, with a single note left on the pillows, and given Yang’s history… She knew Yang wouldn’t forgive her.

Still, the lack of calls or letters from her part never failed to push the knife deeper, even if it was her own hand that had planted it there in the first place.

It made her laugh, whenever she thought about it. She and Blake had more in common than she had initially thought.

And whenever she thought these were her last thoughts… She would wake up, not always in a familiar place. Just like right now, as simply fluttering her eyes open caused pain.

Groaning softly as her entire being throbbed in pain, she still shifted, not recognising her surroundings and trying to sit, until a hand on her shoulder stopped her and gently pushed her back on a bed.

A bedroom, she realised as she glanced around quickly, trying to find a hint of where she was.

A voice, spoken softly and masculine, reached her ears in words she did not understand, but her eyes were still drawn towards it, meeting with dark brown eyes that observed her with concern. A strange necklace of small bones adorned his neck and fell low against his chest, and only now she realised the man was shirtless in this dark, dimly lit room.

Blinking in confusion, she lowered her eyes on herself, realising with horror that she was stark naked under the thin sheet she was covered with. Swiftly pulling it up higher to cover herself, she jerked away from his touch, one of her hands, although trembling, feeling around her in search of her weapon, noticing how it was covered with bandages.

“Who are you?” She tried to ask, her voice breaking with just that, and after clearing her throat, she tried again. “Where am I?”

A flicker of recognition flashed in the man’s dark eyes and he drew back his hand, instead turning away and calling something she had yet to understand. Huddling herself under the covers, she tried to listen to the sounds she could hear, somewhere outside the room, but the little she could hear was incomprehensible.

Discreet shuffling was heard and her attention was drawn there immediately, and a woman entered the room near the back. Old, her features wrinkles and as fragile as parchment, and the line of her lips formed an unhappy one, but her dark eyes, as dark as the man’s, fell on her all the same. In practically the same way, she had, too, a strange necklace falling low against her chest, but amidst the small bones and other trinkets, there were… something that looked… familiar. Not quite gold, but something else.

The man spoke to the old woman, quickly, gesturing vaguely towards her, and the woman nodded then, kneeling beside the man. Now she could see, it wasn’t gold, it was amber. With… some kind of bug, trapped in the biggest one, in the middle of the necklace.

“You speak the tongue of the great walls,” the woman said suddenly, her words clipped and out of practise. “I will speak for my son. He says not to move. You are weak, and need rest.”

“Where am I?” She asked again, never minding her cracking voice.

“You will not understand the name, great walls. But you are safe, and my son is a great healer. He has warmed your body and healed your wounds. Now rest. I will get you some food when you are ready.”

As the woman moved to stand, she reached out to her.

“Wait! What do I call you?”

The woman stopped, turning towards her just a bit.

“I have no name, great walls. Talk to Kiba,” the woman pointed her crooked finger towards the man, still kneeling beside her. “And he will call for me.”

And the woman left. Reluctantly, she looked back at the man, finding him offering a small, encouraging smile, before extending his arm and taking some kind of pouch, but the slushing noise it made as soon as it moved gave her enough of a hint to what it was.

With a wordless tilt of his head, he insisted that she took it, and she nearly drank all of the water it held, making the man smile somewhat proudly in return.

****

“Why are you helping me?” She asked cautiously, her hands wrapped around the warm bowl of some kind of soup, with chunks of unidentified meat floating in it.

“You killed the old evil,” the woman mumbled between her bite, chewing quickly as if she would run out of time to eat. “Kiba found you nearly frozen. You had this clutched in your hands.”

Gesturing with a grunt to the man, on the other side of the bed, Kiba opened the drawer of the nightstand right beside the bed and retrieved something inside, something that nearly made her drop her bowl.

It was torn and dirty by now, for she had carried it for so many years through all kinds of weather, but somehow it had never lost its color, the red bright and standing out even in the dimly lit room. The man, after glancing shortly to his mother, offered it to her, and she sat her bowl aside abruptly to accept it, running a bandaged hand over the folded fabric.

“What does it mean to you?” The old woman questioned, for a moment stopping chewing and turning curious eyes at her.

The question made her smile sadly as she kept her eyes on the remnant of Ruby’s cloak, an old promise dancing distantly in her ears.

_I will be the best partner you will ever have._

“It reminds me of my mission,” she finally answered, quietly. “Of a promise I made to a dear friend. Of her legacy that… I’m trying to uphold.”

“What is your mission?”

“To protect those who can’t fight for themselves,” she instantly answered, looking up from Ruby’s cloak. “My friend, Ruby… She gave her life to kill most of the Grimm and its source, and… I vowed to hunt down those who remained. So that one day, we will live free of them.”

The woman hummed, nodding shortly, and went back to her food as if she had only asked for the weather outside, and the subject was pushed aside as a silence hovered over them. Lowering her eyes again to the bright red cloak she held on her lap, she took a deep breath in, steeling herself for the long road of recovery ahead.

To make sure she survived the frostbites, Kiba kept her from leaving the room she was in for maybe a week, but as she was recovering quickly he finally relented, allowing her to roam the house as her hands were still wrapped in bandages. Both Kiba and his mother kept her from leaving the house just yet, and at first she thought it was because they were concerned for her well-being.

In fact, it was only partially the truth.

She understood at some point, while talking with the woman and trying to communicate with Kiba, that the other reason they didn’t want her to leave yet was because the others of the village wouldn’t take kindly that a ‘speaker of the great walls’ would wander freely inside the village.

Although the man couldn’t speak the language, he could somehow understand it, and when she snapped at him one day, unnerved to be kept in this cage until her full recovery, Kiba only nodded, his features thoughtful, before jerking his head to the side, encouraging her to follow him.

Soon, she found herself drowning in what looked like an oversized parka, with the fur-lined hood falling well past her nose, but at least she could hide her hands well enough in the sleeves. Still, the healer insisted that she wear gloves, and she quickly obliged, ready to do just about anything with the promise of a walk.

Offering an amused smile when she, yet again, pushed back the hood to see, Kiba hummed quietly when she was ready, as he was waiting for her by the door, and she found it strange when she noticed extra padding on his left forearm. Was he injured all this time and she hadn’t notice?

A pang of guilt seized her as she racked her brain to remember, but nothing came to mind, and she was ushered outside, coming back to her senses when a freezing gust of wind jerked the hood from her head, making her yelp in surprise. It made Kiba laugh as she gripped with both hands the hood over her head, the red in her cheeks not only caused by the cold.

She had tried observing from the windows, but the house Kiba and his mother lived in seemed a bit far from the others, judging by what she could see now; small clusters of houses separated by a snow-covered street, if it could be called like that. It was more a trail than a street, and yet, the people she could see didn’t seem bothered in the least by the powerful gusts of wind, or the cold altogether.

What they surely were bothered by, though, was her presence. Kiba’s laughter was carried by the wind, and the people she could see outside their homes turned to them almost in synch, and they came closer, making her tense. Unbothered, the healer by her side only smiled warmly at the newcomers, and a short conversation ensued.

The language was so different from what she was used to hear that she couldn’t even tell if it was a courteous conversation or not, and she only waited, watching carefully Kiba’s eyes, shining despite how dark his irises were.

Finally, the villagers left and Kiba turned to her, offering a warm smile before gesturing for her to follow him again, and she guessed she had been allowed to walk outside. Glancing to the retreating villagers, she had guessed they wouldn’t be very… welcoming.

It wasn’t the backyard per se, but it was a plot of land besides the house, with some kind of shed that held light inside, and she would have said someone might live there if it wasn’t for the few holes on the sides.

She was about to ask Kiba what it was, curious, when she was startled by the healer as he let out a high-pitched whistle, extending his left arm in front of him.

Confused, she stared at him, blinking, and she almost jumped out of her skin when she noticed, in the corner of her eye, something moving.

White feathers on the fresh snow and its flight soundless, she couldn’t help but gape when she realised that two big, yellow eyes stared at her curiously as the snowy owl closed its talons on the padded sleeve of Kiba’s arm, turning its head this way and that. It let out a happy peep, and the healer merely cooed something to it, scratching its chest.

“You have an owl?!” She couldn’t help but exclaim, resisting the urge to reach out to touch it.

Her surprise seemed to amuse Kiba, as he chuckled quietly, before gesturing to his face vaguely, saying something that she did not understand. When she frowned, he pulled off his glove, pointing two fingers to his own eyes before turning them towards the owl.

She blinked, unsure if she understood.

“It’s your eyes?” She tried nonetheless, tilting her head a bit to the side, noticing how the owl mimicked her tenfold.

But Kiba nodded excitedly, a smile pulling his lips largely. Sometimes she wondered how he could understand her; so far, she had never heard him talk another tongue than the one she couldn’t understand, and yet, he understood her. Then again, the old woman, his mother, seemed to know the language well enough, despite her accent.

Bringing her attention back when Kiba mumbled the same thing again, patting with two fingers under his eyes again before turning them to the owl, he then pointed towards the distant woods she could see, far away across the lands, then hesitated for a second before bringing something invisible to his mouth. Confused, she felt her features contorting slightly.

“It’s your eyes when you’re out there… eating?”

A short, firm shake of his head, and he did it again, going more slowly, and after pointing out towards the woods, he paused again, his dark eyes glancing around and searching for an idea, before he straightened his back, his face lighting. With his free hand, he reached for something over his shoulder, before pulling some imaginary thing from there only to bring it in front of him, and slowly pulled. When he released, he made a small noise, as if the wind was rushing for a second, before bringing his hand to his mouth again, insistent.

Snapping her fingers in the depths of her glove, she jumped slightly on the balls of her feet, thinking she had the right answer.

“It’s your eyes when you’re out there, hunting for food!”

Kiba nearly threw his owl from its perch as he nodded vigorously, happy that she understood, and he grabbed her arm to give it a gentle squeeze, sharing his excitement.

“Qilak,” the healer said, almost breathless.

Unsure of what the word was, she frowned again, chagrined that she couldn’t understand him better.

“Qilak,” he said again, gesturing at the bird that seemed entirely unbothered by it.

Turning her eyes to it, noticing only now the few, discreet darker feathers amongst the snow-white ones, she sighed, cursing internally.

“Qilak is ‘owl’?” She tried, doing her best to pronounce the word the same way he did.

But he shook his head, always so patient with her.

“Kiba,” the healer said, pressing his free hand against his own chest. “Qilak,” he then moved the hand to lightly touch the owl’s head, making it close its eyes for a moment.

“That’s its name!”

Nodding vigorously again, a smile spreading on his lips, she lost hers when she suddenly realised that, even though she had been here for the better part of two weeks, Kiba still didn’t know her name. She thought that, even if she told him, it wouldn’t change much. But he was always so kind with her, and was taking care of her for nothing in return. She figured her name would suffice.

“Weiss,” she said softly, quietly.

It earned the healer’s attention right away, his dark eyebrows furrowing momentarily as it wasn’t a word he recognise, and she lightly patted his arm, offering a small smile.

“Kiba,” she dipped her head, locking her eyes with him, and instantly a flicker of recognition appeared there, apparently catching up with just that. “Qilak,” she then pointed to the owl and, finally, turned her hand to herself, dipping her head a bit again. “Weiss.”

“Weiiiss,” Kiba tried, although it sounded comically prolonged.

“Weiss,” she said again, louder, for him to hear adequately.

“Weiss,” he nodded, serious, repeating as best he could.

Then he offered a large, brilliant smile, unabashedly happy, and for a moment he reminded her of Ruby so much that she nearly cried. But catching herself at the last second, ignoring how her eyes burned, she squeezed his arm gently, hoping her smile looked sincere.

“Thank you, Kiba. For taking care of me.”

It made him blink, apparently surprised, but he elegantly dipped his head, muttering something that she did not understand again. Then, as if it was a simple matter and brushing it aside, he turned her attention on the distant woods, pointing at this and that.

****

Days passed at a turtle pace. She felt like she was slowly going mad, only allowed to take small walks around the house, and always under supervision. She had gathered, after watching Kiba and his mother talking a few times, that it wasn’t _her_ that they didn’t trust. It was the villagers.

She could understand, so she always obediently asked Kiba for a walk, instead of simply going by herself. She knew she was still ways from being completely healed, the bandages still on her hands proof enough.

But as the days felt like they trickled away slowly, other times she couldn’t believe how long she had landed here. And as she realised how much time passed, she saw her metaphorical date of sending letters gone.

She would lay there at night, restless, trying to convince herself that writing another letter to Yang would only end up like all the others: unanswered. Therefore, what was the point of writing one? And yet, she craved it, _needed_ to write, needed to still hope and have some kind of link with the woman she loved, even if it meant it would be one-sided.

Sometimes, it had kept her awake during the night. When she just wondered if Yang even read them. Then again, why would she bother reading them if she seemed to think her letters didn’t deserve a response? But straight out thinking that Yang would throw away her letters without opening a single one of them hurt even more than the absence of answer.

She could dream, at least.

And it was with that in mind that she asked for the required material to write her letter, only to be met with a stern:

“We don’t have that.”

Blinking as she stared at the old woman, who kept chewing on her wet bread as if nothing happened, she merely scoffed, unamused.

“What do you mean, you don’t have that? Paper? Pen? That’s all that is required.”

The woman leveled her dark eyes up at her, stopping her chewing for a second.

“We don’t have that.”

Then resumed her meal, dipping the piece of bread in the pale broth in the bowl she held. But she only stared, dismayed, her heart clenching painfully in her chest, and the old woman apparently noticed, and for once, had the grace to look _slightly_ sorry.

“You are nearly healed. You could write your letter when you are back behind your great walls.”

With that, a pat on her arm was the woman’s sign of comfort, although her fingers were damp from the broth, before she resumed her meal again, leaving the matter aside. She went to bed straight after, trying to hide her sorrow under the covers, wondering why it felt like the hole in her chest felt like it was growing with each passing day.

She was so lost in thoughts that she had forgot about her walk with Kiba, until he came to her room, dressed like a bear and ready to fight the howling wind. When she saw him standing in the doorway, she darted her eyes away, ashamed.

“I’m sorry, Kiba… I’m not in the mood for a walk.”

Instead of walking away, the healer made his way closer, crouching beside her bed to better look at her, his eyebrows furrowed. After observing her for a moment, he said something, tapping his own chest a few times.

It was nearly a month that she was with them now, so there were some words she had started to understand or, at least, guess what it meant, but there were many, many words that she still had no idea what it meant. When he saw her frown, Kiba pulled off his glove, then gestured as if he had cut his palm, then winced with a hiss. Then, he looked up at her, eager.

“You… cut yourself?”

Shaking his head, Kiba tried it again, differently. Mimicking squeezing his hand under his foot, or hitting his head on the desk, or pinching his arm, it always came with the false wince and the hiss of pain, and so she tried again.

“Pain? Hurting yourself?”

Instantly the man’s face lit up as he nodded, before muttering again the same word he had said earlier, more somberly, then pointed at her questioningly.

“You’re wondering if I’m hurt?”

Nodding again, the healer sat down, peeling away the layers he had put on to go outside as his entire attention was on her. Not really thrilled to be asked this particular question, she decided to answer literally.

“You know I am,” she merely answered, waving one of her bandaged hand in front of her.

As his features pulled in a severed frown, he only shook his head, vehemently. Pointed repeatedly to her hands, that were still far too sensitive, and even tapped a few times against her chest, over her heart. Like it was apparent even to him, that her heart and soul was broken.

She smiled then, sadly, and it seemed to be enough of an answer for him, because Kiba reached for the pouch at his belt, the one she knew was where he took the bandages for her hands, and she reached out to grasp his hand, giving it a soft squeeze.

“You won’t be able to heal this, Kiba,” was the only thing she said.

She didn’t know if he understood, but the man simply pressed his lips together, and nodded once.

It took a couple more days still before Kiba entered her room again just at the break of dawn, and shook her shoulder to rouse her before gesturing for her to follow him as he left as swiftly as he entered. Puzzled but curious, she got out of bed and followed, shivering in the cold air. She wondered a couple of times during her stay if the house was isolated at all, because she was sure, without the fire burning strongly in the hearth, she was sure they would all die freezing in the night.

She found Kiba there, standing beside the roaring fire and apparently waiting for her, and when he saw her emerge from the hallway, he pointed outside with a wide smile.

“Qilak,” he started, then muttered another word that she vaguely understood as food… or hunt?

But when she saw him, moments later when they were outside, go towards the shed and coming back with a quiver full of arrows and swinging a bow over his shoulder, she figured it was the later.

A long, high-pitched note came overhead, and she looked up, seeing how Kiba’s bird seemed to search for something to perch on. Then, lowering her eyes to the padding on her left upper-arm, she wondered if Kiba would let her hold Qilak at some point. And as if he read her mind, the healer smiled widely, nudging her arm up so it was well in front of her, before gesturing at the bird, who kept restlessly circling over them.

“Um… Qilak?”

She didn’t know if she had understood Kiba’s demand, but it seemed to be the right thing to do, as instantly the owl descended on them soundlessly, and she closed her eyes entirely by reflex when she thought it would collide against her. Instead, she heard quiet flutters of wings, and a weight settled on her arm, not really heavy but it was still noticeable. Slowly cracking her eyes open, she was greeted by two big, round yellow eyes, observing her curiously.

But the soundless gasp she let out made Kiba laugh as she looked up at him, equal parts impressed, excited and nervous. Smiling proudly, he reached out to the bird, scratching the side of its head and the big yellow eyes closed slowly, the bird letting out a couple of happy sounds. Then, the healer gesture with his own free arm, jerking it up higher in the air, as if to propel the bird.

Nodding to signify she understood, she took a deep breath, then did as best she could, inciting the bird, somewhat gently, she had to say, to take flight again.

Used to it by now, Qilak obediently left her arm and as the bird climbed up in the sky, Kiba said something to the bird.

Then, with a small, mischievous smile, the healer turned to her as he pointed at Qilak’s quickly disappearing silhouette, before turning two of his fingers to his own eyes.

“He’s your eyes now!” She whispered, excited at the prospect of a very different kind of hunt from what she was used to.

Nodding, Kiba chuckled as he started walking in some kind of trail, and she quickly followed him, ready to copy whatever he did.

****

Their hunt had been fairly successful in her humble opinion, with three hares and the sight of a reindeer, but it had taken most of the day, and when they came back, she fell right in her bed, mostly because she was tired but also because Kiba insisted, making sure she understood that she had to take plenty of rest. She understood now, the gravity of frostbites.

Still, now she didn’t have to wear bandages all the time, on the sole condition that she was careful and kept them warm. The following days, the skin of her hands was so sensitive that she never strayed too far from the hearth in the living room. Kiba, helped by his mother, explained that it will be better with time, but she will have to protect her hands from chilled weather from now on, or they would hurt.

Kiba would often join her in the living room when he wasn’t out for a hunt or on errands, and he would tend to his pouch containing herbs and bandages and so many other things she couldn’t see, or he would tend to his weapons, sharpening his knife or tightening the string of his bow.

Seeing him do so made her do the same, fetching her rapier from the bedroom, starting to collect dust in a corner, and she looked the thing over critically, along with her munitions. The blade could use a good sharpening, as she didn’t even remember the last time she had taken the time to sharpen it, the amount of dust in the barrel was approximately half to low, and she had only one more round for each in her pouch. She would need to gear up whenever she was back in town.

As she readied the rapier again, spinning the barrel to make sure it still functioned well, she frowned when it didn’t even make a full spin. When she started at blue, it was supposed to finish on blue, that’s how it had always worked. But now it barely managed to spin to the fourth color.

That wouldn’t do.

Going in her backpack to fetch her tools, she started the excruciating work of disassembling the barrel, searching for a broken piece or something stuck in the tiny gears.

All the while under the entirely impressed and marveled stare of Kiba, who then looked back at his bow with a shake of his head.

With her rapier repaired and her hands healed as best as they could be, the time of her stay at this… unnamed village was coming to an end, and she could see the sadness in Kiba’s dark eyes, how he would sigh and his shoulders sagging whenever he thought she wasn’t looking.

It made her wonder if he had friends, here. It didn’t look like it.

Two days later, Kiba entered in her room soundlessly just shy of dawn and shook her shoulder to rouse her, gesturing for her to come find him as he left the room. Sighing as she stood, shivering when her feet met the ice-cold floor. Once again wondering about the isolation of the house, she joined Kiba in the living room, her arms tightly crossed over her chest.

The healer was pacing in front of the roaring hearth, and she wondered shortly where they got all the wood it took just to keep the house somewhat warm. Shaking her head and focusing on the situation, she noticed he held something in his hand, some kind of brown cloth, as he paced almost nervously, Kiba’s dark brows knitted together.

“What’s going on?” She asked, and he stopped his pacing.

Running a hand in his jet black hair and brushing them back, he settled his dark eyes on her, muttering something she did not understand. Arching a single brow in response, Kiba sighed, before thrusting the cloth in her hands, and she had no choice but to take it.

But there was something inside, and after glancing up at the man, equal parts cautious and curious, she proceeded to lift one corner of it when she saw the small, encouraging head tilt of Kiba. And when she lifted the cloth, she frowned, tilting her head to the side.

It was a carving, in something akin to ivory. It might even be just that, but she wondered where exactly he could have found ivory in the middle of the tundra in winter, but it was the form of the carving that made her blink.

A… bear?

Rising her eyes to Kiba in disbelief, she raised her eyebrows questioningly, and he smiled happily.

“Love,” he blurted out, the word strange coming out of his mouth as he pointed to her, insistent. “You… much love. Many.”

“Kiba!”

Both of them froze at the shout, and they turned in unison to the old woman, who glared at her son with unbridled fury. She barked something to him and it made his head hung low, his eyes darting away guiltily, and she was about to intervene when her dark brown eyes turned to her, sternly.

“He is not allowed to speak that tongue. He will be outcast if he does.”

Sending a glance to Kiba, he only shrugged one shoulder but still looked away, and her attention fell back to the carved bear in her hand.

“He gave me this,” she said, showing it to the woman.

The woman nodded without surprise, her eyes, too, falling to the white bear.

“A warrior needs a totem. This is yours.”

“A bear?” She returned her attention on it, turning it this way and that. “What does it mean? Power? Strength?”

The woman laughed softly, and it sounded odd coming from her.

“No,” she shook her head, blinking slowly. “My son chose well. The bear is the totem of love. Undying and unyielding love.”

She blinked, waiting for the reaction that it was a joke, but when none came, she scoffed.

“Love? Why would you give to what you called yourself a warrior a totem representing love? I don’t _need_ love, I need-”

“It does not represent something you need, but something you are,” the woman interrupted. “The bear is a powerful one, as is what it represents. This is a parting gift,” the woman waved at the carving in her hand. “Kiba carved it from the fang of the old evil you killed.”

She frowned at that, observing the bear with more care. The fang of a Grimm? Why didn’t it dissipate, like the rest of it?

“The first wall you will find is south of here,” the woman continued, opening a cabinet and pulling a bag from it, heavy it seemed. “It is a several days long journey. Take this.”

Heavy or not, the old woman tossed it her way as if it had been a simple cushion, and she nearly dropped the carved bear when she caught it. Before she could say something, the woman was already out the room, and Kiba placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing slightly. He offered a reassuring smile when she looked up at him, and he gently took her hand holding the bear, and pressed it to her chest meaningfully, a soft glint in his eyes.

“Friends,” he whispered, making sure his mother wouldn’t hear.

It made her smile and she nodded instantly, locking their eyes together.

“Friends,” she repeated in the same way.

His eyes sparkled then as his smile widened, and he nodded too.

****

She had left later that day, retrieving her gear mysteriously piled on the nightstand, carefully folded and every holes and tear stitched together. She only took the time, with Kiba’s help, to sow back the piece of Ruby’s cloak where it belonged, over her right shoulder and falling behind. It descended almost to her elbow on the side, then it was torn and fell all the way to her calf on the back.

As she looked at their handiwork, she remembered with a flash of pain the last time she saw Ruby, smiling confidently back at her over her shoulder, her cloak floating behind her with a thumb-up, before jumping into the mass of Grimm.

She shook her head and closed her eyes, once again reciting her vow. She wouldn’t let Ruby’s life disappear in vain. She would hunt the last of the Grimm in her name.

And with renewed fervor, she marched out of the house, waving at Kiba and Qilak that followed her for a while before turning back at some point as she went south, preparing to come back to the city and, with it she hoped, her next target.

She had earned quite a reputation over the years, although she didn’t really see them pass by. After the Great War, most of the Huntsmen and Huntresses retired, their duty accomplished. Many settled in, in search of a more stable life and, for some, starting a family.

She had been one of them, back when the war came to an ugly end. Not many knew the witch Salem, who was the one calling on and organising the Grimm. Not knowing that it was in front of her that Ruby died, called upon her vital force to extinguish the flame of darkness from within the witch herself.

She and Yang, already in the stumbling first months of love themselves at the end of the war, decided to settle somewhere quiet and peaceful, hopefully to live out the rest of their days together. Blake wasn’t far from them, preferring a bit of solitude after everything that happened.

They had tried, _she_ had tried, to leave it all behind. Of course, the death of Ruby rested heavily on their shoulders, but life had a strange way to show that it still moved on, and eventually, they did. Or at least, she thought she had.

Still in the news, in the newspapers, she would see a village, a town, sometimes even a city, destroyed by a lonesome Grimm, one of the few that remained. But the problem lied there; those that remained were the most dangerous.

Old, powerful beings, so old that the call of Salem hadn’t affected them like the rest. They were independent, but were still attracted to negative feelings, like the rest of the Grimm. And Salem often claimed the poor nature of mankind, saying time and time again how they were only meant to turn against each other, and she came to an unsettling conclusion:

Salem was right.

Only a couple of months after the Great war ended, seemingly unafraid now as the Grimm were rarely seen anymore, some turned against their neighbors, entire villages attacking the closest one for food, provisions, lands… the reasons didn’t matter. The results came to the same conclusion still.

The world wasn’t safe, no more than when the Grimm roamed free. Entire settlements would disappear overnight, some feud between towns and cities started, and a new kind of darkness settled over the world as the roads were no safer than before, bandits prowling like vultures along them. People died each day, and it pained her to realise that Ruby gave her life… for this.

But she could stop the Grimm. That was the whole point of the Great War, to stop an unstoppable foe, to save the people it would have destroyed, had it been left roaming the world.

So, after seeing one too many time the list of casualties after another attack on a remote settlement caused by an unknown Grimm, she took it as her mission. Grabbed her gear, took the last of Ruby’s cloak that they brought back from the field, wrote a letter for Yang and left it on her pillows and left, hoping Yang would understand.

The lack of response of any kind even to this day proved that the love of her life, in fact, didn’t. She had written so many letters, hoping that this one would grant her a sign, but she had yet to receive one.

As she sat in her tent, somewhat protected from the wind and snow from outside, she was sitting on her bedroll, observing the carved bear Kiba had given her in the flickering light of the fire she created with her Dust.

She kept wondering why he saw her that way. Like she was the embodiment of love, or something. She knew for a fact that if she embodied something, it was disappointment.

Feeling her mood sour with that, she returned the bear in her bag and laid down on her bedroll, heaving a sigh. With the silence on Yang’s end, she wondered if she would ever go back to her, when her mission will be complete. If she ever completed it.

She sometimes let her mind wander, wondering what she would do if she ever went back. Would Yang still be angry at her? Would she at least be happy that she came back? Would she just slam the door in her face?

What did Blake say, when she caught wind of her leaving?

If Yang ever forgave her, Blake wouldn’t. She knew best what it did, to leave without a word.

Well, she left a note, but she guessed it didn’t change much.

Draping an arm over her eyes, she willed her mind to calm its restlessness and tried to sleep, which only happened hours later.

****

In search of a new lead, she soon found herself wandering into a decently sized settlement, with a handful of Dust shops, to her surprise, and a couple of inns. After nearly a month of sleeping in a tent in the middle of winter, she needed the luxury, and went to the biggest inn she could find, dreaming of a warm meal, a roof over her head, and… maybe some wine.

Even with her unfortunate reputation, the sight of her sometimes warranted unwanted attention. Even though she had, more or less, resigned from her position of heiress of the Schnee Dust Company, sometimes she was still recognised as such, so she was always careful when entering public spaces. Hood up and hiding as best she could most of her features, sitting alone in a corner, she tried to keep a low profile. Usually it worked.

Other times, it didn’t.

That night, however, took a different turn than her other encounters. While on previous occasions she had been called out on the company’s policies, or being flat-out refused at faunus-owned inns (which, she couldn’t even blame them. She knew too well what her name represented), it was rare that the sight of her followed something nice.

Her belly full with warm food and wine, she stumbled a bit climbing the stairs to get to the room she had rented for the night and thinking she should have taken a bath before drinking, already dreaming of falling face first in the pillows as soon as she got there. Finally reaching the door, it swung open widely as she leant on it, searching for balance, and stopped short as she did.

Sitting on the edge of the bed and seemingly waiting for her, a young woman she didn’t know was there, green, doe-eyes looking up at her when she entered, and the woman raised a hand to push back a stray lock of rust-red hair behind her ear, falling past her shoulders in soft waves. She couldn’t help but notice the freckles cutely adorning the woman’s cheekbones and even climbing the bridge of her nose, discreet but there nonetheless.

Blinking a couple of times as she stared, dumbstruck, the young woman offered a small, tentative smile to her, and she noticed the lone dimple in her left cheek when she did.

“Um,” she finally muttered, her eyes darting away when she realised the open collar of the light blouse the woman was wearing offered a good portion of skin, and even a glimpse of the dark, lacy bra underneath. “M-maybe I’m in the wrong room, I’m sorry-”

“It’s not a mistake!” The young woman instantly jumped to her feet to prevent her from leaving. Then, getting a hold of herself it seemed, continued in a calmer tone. “I have been sent here.”

Blinking again, she wondered why the room was spinning suddenly. “You have been sent? You work here?”

A short nod answered her, and she sighed, bringing a hand up to rub her eyes with a grunt. What was happening? She just wanted to sleep!

“What are you supposed to do, in my room?” She finally asked in a sigh, leaning a bit more of her weight against the door.

At that, the young woman shifted nervously, and it made her frown slightly. But she was curious as to _why_ , exactly, this woman was sent here.

“My employer told me to please you however I can, as he is a great supporter of the SDC, Miss Schnee,” the woman let out quietly, her green eyes avoiding her stare. “He knows about your, um… preferences, and so… he sent me, instead of a man.”

The words took longer than she liked to be processed through her sluggish mind, and she suddenly straightened her back in a ramrod line, the meaning hitting her like a truck. As she looked the young woman over again, she realised she couldn’t have been over twenty, and she was being generous. While she wasn’t terribly old either, she was in her early thirties, she still didn’t feel alright with the situation.

Letting out a quiet scoff, she stepped inside the room and closed the door behind her, startling the woman a bit, and she observed her for a moment as she made her way to one of the bottles of wine she had asked upstairs. Popping one open, she took a good swig of it, before leaning her hip against the counter there, blinking slowly.

“What’s your name?”

The woman shifted a bit again, and she noticed her hands curling into loose fists on her sides before relaxing.

“Abby,” came the soft murmur.

“Abby,” she repeated, her eyes still staring at the stranger in her room as she took another swig. “How old are you, Abby?”

“Twenty-two,” came the instant answer, even though she didn’t believe that one second.

There was something about her, telling her that it was a complete lie. The woman wasn’t that much taller than her, with a slender form that hid powerful shoulders and arms, filling her blouse nicely. Cheeks still a bit round but the skin visibly soft and creamy wherever she looked, she had to remind herself to look away when her attention was drawn to the open collar again and following that soft valley of skin-

“How old are you really, Abby?” She caught herself at the last second, glancing away.

Her gut twisted in anxious knots. Abby was pretty. And she had been alone and without… this kind of attention for so long, now, and… She shook her head discreetly, raising her bottle again as she noticed in the corner of her eye how the stranger’s frame seemed to deflate at the question.

“Nineteen,” Abby muttered under her breath, hanging her head with shame.

Nearly choking on her swallow, she slammed the bottle down on the counter with more force than she intended to and narrowly missing a coughing fit, she turned her attention back to the young woman – the _girl_ she reminded herself – and after staring at her for a moment more felt a strange need to protect this young woman, sent here probably without even her agreement.

“Have you been ‘offered’ often to other clients?” She couldn’t help the hardness to her voice, and it seemed to surprise Abby. “I’m going to have a few words with your employer-”

“No, please! I need the money!” The stranger instantly stepped closer, raising her hands in the air, panic in her eyes, before taking in a deep breath, calming herself. “And, no. It’s… it’s the first time I’ve been sent upstairs.”

“Really?” Arching a single, dubious brow, she couldn’t help the muted fury burning in the pit of her stomach.

“Yes. I, um… I have my preferences too.”

“… Oh.”

Taking another long swallow of her wine, she noticed how Abby raised her chin under her stare, her green eyes meeting hers fully, and once again her gaze couldn’t help but wander down, admiring her silhouette, and-

_Nineteen._

Lowering the bottle back on the counter with a short, discreet shake of her head, she let out a deep sigh as she stepped closer to Abby, hesitating for a second before reaching up, and visibly surprising the young woman, buttoned up the blouse until she wouldn’t lose her eyeballs somewhere inadequate.

“I’m really sorry you’ve been sent here, Abby, but I’m fine,” she finally let out quietly, softly, her hands moving from the girl’s collar to grasp her shoulders lightly, her thumbs rubbing. “I will pay you, of course, but please, leave.”

Up until now, Abby’s frame had been tensed up, nervous and wondering what she would do, and in that moment she felt her relax her shoulders under her hands, visibly reassured. But then it was her turn to sigh, her green eyes turning to the door.

“I can’t… My boss specifically asked that I stay with you all night.”

Cursing internally while she managed a polite smile on the outside, she simply hummed as she pulled away, already regretting coming here.

“But if you don’t want to do _that_ ,” Abby continued, apparently catching on. “I can still run you a bath? Make your bed extra comfy? Massage your feet?”

Scoffing as she nonetheless made her way to the bathroom, she glanced back over her shoulder, a teasing smile on her lips.

“You don’t have to do any of those things, but… Will you help me wash my back? And my hair?”

Perking up like a child on Christmas night at the sight of gifts, the young red-head swiftly slipped past her and started running a bath, preparing towels and soap and sponges on the side, and she couldn’t help but huff at the sight. Oh well. If she had a personal maid for the night, she wouldn’t mind the luxury. Just for one night.

With nothing else to do as Abby was seemingly taking charge of everything else, she started to strip, wincing when pain flared in her left shoulder. Even after all this time, when she traveled she used as less as possible her Semblance, keeping it for fighting, and she had to climb down a cliff, for if she had made her way around it would have prolonged her journey for a week. Without the necessary supplies to do so, she decided that climbing down would do, and was about halfway down when her foot slipped on moss, resulting in a short but painful fall amidst branches and the ground.

Fortunately, her Aura took care of the cuts and bruises rather quickly, but her shoulder was still stinging when she raised her arm too high. She figured that a good night of sleep would take care of it.

Still, upon noticing her wince, Abby came closer and gently worked her shirt over her head, instantly noticing the last remnant of the bruise on her shoulder, and trailed her fingertips alongside it, the touch making her shiver involuntarily.

“What happened?” the red-head asked softly, her breath tickling a few hairs against her ear and cheek.

“I fell down a cliff.”

Obviously not expecting this answer, Abby opened her mouth but let it close wordlessly, simply nodding and taking a step back when she unbuckled her belt, letting it fall loudly in the otherwise silent room. As she pulled down her skirt, Abby went to stop the water, briefly dipping her fingers in it to test the temperature before nodding in appreciation.

Finally in the nude, she raised her leg and dipped her foot in the water, before groaning loudly, hastily sitting in the tub with her eyes closing in bliss, and she leaned back with a long, deep sigh.

She could hear shifting beside her, figured that Abby had taken a seat beside the tub, and for a moment she stayed still, swallowed in the warmth of the water relaxing her muscles and soothing her aches.

“I’ve never met a real Huntress before,” Abby commented quietly, her voice meeting her ears in an almost whisper.

Cracking a single eye open, she looked down at the younger woman, huffing.

“You’ve met fake Huntresses before?”

“Bandits,” Abby nodded gravely, dipping the tips of her fingers in the water and wiggling them around. “Saying they were Huntresses or Huntsmen to explain why they were armed to the teeth.”

“Is there a lot of bandits in the area?”

“Not much, so I guess that’s why we thought it made sense,” was the answer with a slight shrug.

Humming as she returned to her relaxation, her eye falling close again, she thought the matter close until she heard shifting again toward her side, and could hear the smile in her voice when Abby spoke again.

“But you, you’re a real one! And you’re famous!” Abby was keeping her voice quiet still, but there was an excitable note to it that made her brows furrow a bit. “You’ve won the war! I remember seeing everyone celebrating on TV, and I didn’t quite understand as I was just a kid, but-”

“It didn’t feel like a celebration,” she interrupted quietly but sternly, slowly opening her eyes. “Still doesn’t. I saw friends die right in front of me moments before it all stopped. It was a massacre. The ones who celebrated were ones lucky enough to not have seen what I saw.”

It still haunted her dreams sometimes. Nora barely made it out, but without one leg, Ren and Jaune… She should have visited her more often when she could, she thought as she couldn’t help the guilt seeping in. All those lives lost… And yet she was still here. Sometimes only asking for a fatal blow.

And yet, she was still here.

She couldn’t help the wistful and pained expression contorting her features when the thought stayed in her mind, echoing loudly and stubbornly flashing in her mind, and her attention was brought back by a light hand on her shoulder, warm and solid.

“I’m sorry,” Abby murmured, a soft frown on her face. “I didn’t mean…”

Forcing a smile that never reached her eyes, she gently grasped the red-head’s wrist, giving it a soft squeeze.

“It’s fine. I just don’t like talking about the war.”

Wordlessly nodding, Abby then timidly offered a sponge and a bar of soap, and she took both, firstly starting with washing her hands then proceeding with her arms. A silence rested over them, the sound of water dripping from the sponge the only thing filling it, and it was only when Weiss raised her right arm to stretch a bit that Abby reached over, lightly following a short, curved line of a scar that started on her upper ribs.

“What happened?” The red-head asked, apparently entirely at ease with her naked form. Then, a flash of remorse darkened the green eyes. “If it happened during the war…”

“Oh no, this was… a Boarbatusk, I think,” she merely brushed her worry aside, barely glancing down.

Abby hummed silently as her green eyes watched for a moment more, then brushed the back of her fingers over the faded claw marks on the back of her arm, the scars so pale it nearly blended with her skin.

“And this?”

“An Alpha Beowolf,” she answered without missing a beat, starting to rub the sponge over her left arm and wincing when she raised it up.

“And this?” Abby asked again when she leaned forward a bit, running the sponge over her leg, the ghost of a touch following the crescent of a large bite mark near her waist.

“Manticore.”

“Are you…” The red-haired girl paused, pulling her hand back for a moment as she was visibly hesitating. “You’ve been hurt a lot of times,” Abby let out instead.

But the deep, concerned frown on her face spoke louder than any words she could say, and she tried her best to ignore the same sorrow wrapping around her heart, pretending she didn’t understand the meaning Abby couldn’t voice.

She already knew she was reckless. Careless. She had faced far worse than death, already.

So she let out a non-committal hum, and all of Abby’s eagerness seemed to vanish from there, the silence only lengthening as she knew what this young woman was staring at.

A broken soul wandering the world, trying to righten her wrongs without knowing how, and carrying a burden far greater than she should be carrying alone.

Still, instead of leaving, Abby merely started washing her hair wordlessly, and she let herself relax in this moment, trying to forget the memory of the last time anyone had touched her hair so tenderly.

She could almost smell the cinnamon of the perfumed candles Yang had lit for her.

Her heart sank in her chest and her eyes burned, but she managed to not break down in front of Abby, despite how heartbroken she felt.

She let Abby dress her for the night, because she was incredibly tired and also because the red head insisted. She would have been self-conscious of her nudity in front of this stranger if the room wasn’t spinning as much as it did, and she simply stood in the middle of the room, hoping she could just fall face-first in the bed.

Closing her eyes as Abby buttoned the large shirt she would be wearing to sleep, she sighed, gently swaying on her feet, trying to ignore the soft heat emanating from Abby as the young woman stood so close to her. Memories surged forward despite how deep she had buried them, and in this moment, she wasn’t strong enough to push them back.

A timid, soft pair of lips touched hers and made her breath hitch, and at first she wanted to recoil. It felt far too real to simply be a trick of her memories, but she had been so lonely all this time, and suddenly, she craved this soft heat she felt against her.

So she didn’t move, keeping her eyes closed and holding back her breath, not encouraging anything but willing to let herself be the victim if anything else came.

The second time, the touch was firmer, a gentle hand hovering over her cheek and hesitated there, and she felt a bit ashamed when she chased after those soft lips, craving something she had been deprived of for so long. A hot breath escaped in a pant against her lips when they parted, and she pressed for more, painting the lower lip with an hungry tongue, a shiver running up her spine when she heard the tiniest moan coming from those same lips she was kissing.

Her heart was pounding in her chest and with just that, she felt fire thrumming in her veins, want and need making her stomach twist, and an obnoxious throbbing between her legs made itself known when an eager hand slipped in her still damp hair and fisted in them, pulling slightly.

Opening her eyes to see where the bed was with the crystal-clear intention of steering them there, her rambling mind was brought to a sudden, horrifying halt when she was met with dark, half-lidded green eyes.

Green. Not lilac.

Jerking away as if she had been burned and earning a startled yelp from Abby, she stepped back several times until her lower back knocked against the dresser, and she stared with wide eyes, panting, her heart about to burst out of her chest. When she finally locked eyes with Abby’s, she couldn’t help but notice the way the red head seemed to deflate under her stare, eventually glancing away in shame.

“Get out,” was the only thing she could rasp out.

“I’m sorry,” Abby started quietly, seemingly so young now as she hugged herself, visibly ashamed of herself. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“You have nothing to apologise for,” she interrupted firmly, swallowing the thick lump in her throat as her heart slowly settled. “I shouldn’t have allowed it. Now, I’m drunk, and I don’t want to take advantage of you. Please, leave.”

“I-I told you, I can’t,” Abby looked up at her with wide, stupefied eyes, surprised that she was willing to take the blame so eagerly.

“Fine,” she hissed, straightening her back. “Then I will sleep on the floor.”

“What? No! You told me you fell off a cliff, I saw how hard it was for you to raise your arm! You need rest, in a bed!”

“I’m not going to let you sleep on the floor, Abby,” she merely growled, hating that this… _girl_ was right.

Raising her hands up in defense, Abby shrugged, but still darted her eyes away, shame heavy in her eyes.

“I will keep my distances, I promise.”

Pinching her lips for a moment, she finally sucked a deep breath in and let it out in a hiss, but nodded tightly, walking to the bed with the ease and grace of an automaton. Slipping under the covers, she tensed when she felt Abby join her a second later, and before the girl could say anything, she snatched one of the pillows they had and placed it between them; hopefully, it will keep her well and away from Abby’s body.

Without adding anything else, she turned to her side, her back to the red head, and turned off the lamp on the bedside table, hoping she would fall asleep soon.

But in the darkness of the night, she was left with the ghost of lips against hers, with the remembrance of warmth against her, and she squeezed her eyes shut as she repressed a groan, pressing her thighs together to relieve the ache a bit.

“I’m really sorry,” Abby’s voice rose in the silence, just a bit louder than a whisper.

“It’s fine,” was all she grumbled, feeling a scowl forming on her face as she kept her eyes squeezed shut.

“It’s not,” the red head argued. “But you looked so heartbroken, I just… wanted to cheer you up.”

The scowl deepening on her face, she didn’t say anything as she hoped they would simply drift to sleep, and she thought it would be the last of it when the silence lengthen over them. Slowly, she let herself relax, sinking in the mattress, and comfortable under the covers, her mind started to drift.

“Were you thinking of someone in particular?” Abby’s voice drew her attention again, soft enough to be ignored if she was asleep.

For a moment she wanted to pretend she was and leave Abby’s question hanging in the air, but before she knew it, she was sighing tiredly.

“I have a girlfriend,” she muttered, wondering if the girl heard. “Well… had.”

“Oh… is she, um…”

“No,” she sighed again, feeling her features softening a bit. “I was with her before I… before I left.”

A brief rustling sound indicated that the red head turned to the side too, and a light touch to her shoulder made her stiffen. The hand drew back.

“Why did you leave her?” Abby asked quietly, sounding genuinely curious.

Maybe it was because she was exhausted, or maybe it was because she drank too much wine, maybe it was because they were surrounded in darkness, or maybe it was because of those three reasons, but she felt her tongue loosen, and with a small, soft sigh, she turned on her back, cracking her tired eyes to the ceiling and boring holes through it.

“I still wonder about it sometimes,” she murmured, dread weighing in the pit of her stomach.

She never did like thinking about this particular subject.

“Did you not love her anymore?”

“Oh, I loved her, Abby,” she chuckled bitterly, a sad smile pulling her lips. “I still do. She’s… she’s the love of my life. I don’t think there will be a day where she won’t be the first thought I have in the morning and the last before I sleep.” She paused, taking in a shaky breath. “I love her so much it hurts to be away.”

“Then why did you leave?” Abby asked again, now concerned.

“I…”

Opening and closing her mouth wordlessly for a moment, she closed her eyes, trying to untangle her thoughts. She had tried for so long to convince herself she had only one reason for leaving when she damn well knew it wasn’t so simple. Things never were with her.

She remembered the first months when she wandered the jungles of Mistral, how her mind and thoughts were dark with guilt and shame, and she couldn’t for the life of her find anything that she did well in her life. The self-deprecating thoughts had stayed, and she had managed somehow to mute the guilt she carried.

She remembered a time when she had thought she was the luckiest woman alive to have found the love of her life in Yang Xiao Long. After leaving, she kept reminding herself how Yang deserved so much better than the walking failure she was.

She felt her eyes prickling, and she only squeezed them shut harder, draping an arm over them just to be sure Abby couldn’t see her even in the dark.

“I couldn’t give her something she dearly wished.”

“What was it?” Abby asked, softly.

“A family,” she let out, her voice quiet and shaking, a lump the size of her fist lodged in her throat and keeping her from breathing properly. “I… I took all the necessary precautions, I was so careful, and yet… I miscarried.”

“Oh…” After a handful of seconds fluttered away, a hand gently touched her elbow, offering support. “I’m so sorry…”

“Yang, she was so strong,” she chuckled bitterly with another sad smile. “She kept reminding me it wasn’t my fault, but I knew. She was so disappointed, and to think _I_ was the source of it, I just… I couldn’t…”

Taking in a deep, slow breath in, she forced herself to swallow the lump thickly, settling her torn heart from breaking all over again.

“So many things happened at the same time and I just felt so helpless,” she let out in a steadier voice, the trembling just a vague shake in it. “Leaving was… the only thing I could do. Hunting Grimm was the only thing I could do, the only thing I _can_ do. At least, I’m doing something good, I bring a bit of peace with every Grimm I’ve slain.”

The rustling sound beside her indicated that Abby moved about the bed, and she felt the girl press closer to her, gently looping her arms around her waist and resting her head in the crook of her shoulder. But she didn’t push her back.

At this point, she couldn’t care less what happened, and so she let it be.

“I’m really sorry,” the girl whispered close to her ear, her breath tickling a few strands of hair. “I don’t know what else to say…”

Pulling her arm from her face, she turned her head towards the girl, for a moment observing her as the moonlight filtering from the window made the green of her eyes shine in a new shade. Wishing her wounded soul would feel whole again someday and desperately missing any kind of closeness, she leaned over, gently taking Abby’s lips.

With a soft hum, the girl kissed her back, her eyes sliding shut, but soon enough Abby pulled away. Chasing after those soft, warm lips, she was met instead by warm fingers, lightly pressing against her lips and stopping her.

“You can cuddle me, even spoon me if you want to,” Abby murmured barely an inch away from her lips, her fingers slipping away. “But I won’t let you do something that you will regret in the morning.”

With that said, the red head turned around, her back to her, and backed into her side to rest her head on her arm. And even if she was as glad for the girl’s initiative as much as she was disappointed, she didn’t argue, and simply wrapped her arm around the girl’s waist, and nuzzled Abby’s nape, breathing in the girl’s unfamiliar scent. In a wink, she was asleep.

****

Slowly emerging from the sands of sleep with the impression she had slept on a cloud all night, she hummed quietly as she shifted, snuggling a little closer the warm body she was cuddling, earning a tiny sigh of contentment. Then, without warning, she jerked awake, bolting upright and putting some distance between her and Abby, who was wearing quite the unhappy frown at the sudden movement.

The events of the night before came rushing back, and she hastily glanced down on herself, releasing a sigh of relief when she saw she still wore her shirt. Turning to the girl still in the bed but slowly sitting up with a yawn, she was even more glad to see her fully clothed.

She had feared she had done something in her sleep, or that maybe she simply couldn’t remember, and she relaxed when it wasn’t the case. With a quiet groan, she laid back on the bed, grimacing at the distant but still annoying headache she could feel rolling in.

“Good morning,” Abby muttered as she rubbed at her eye cutely, her hair a wild mess, but she simply groaned in response, making the girl chuckle quietly.

They got out of bed slowly, and she realised it was still morning, but it was much later than she liked. So while she got dressed, Abby went downstairs to fetch her some food, insisting that she had to eat a good meal before going back on the hunt. It turned out that Abby brought enough for two, and they ate in the room in a somewhat awkward silence, even though the red head didn’t seem bothered by it.

“Why do you need money so much you’d be willing to sleep with a stranger?” She finally asked, the thought bothering her ever since last night.

With a small sigh as Abby tore a piece of bread, the girl kept her eyes down on her food, her features passing from relaxed to somber in a wink.

“It’s my mother,” Abby murmured, dipping the piece of bread in the egg yolk that had spilled in her plate. “She’s… very sick. She can’t work anymore, but we need the money to buy the medicine. So…”

Shrugging, Abby left the bread in her plate and pushed it back in the tray, signaling that she was finished with it, and at the sight of her beautiful green eyes darkening with dread, her expression so somber and grave, it pulled at her heart immensely, and her next bite nearly got stuck when she swallowed it.

So, after finishing the last remnant of her meal, she took a decision, turning a bit more towards Abby.

“Let me help you.”

It earned Abby’s attention as her green eyes looked up at her, and one red eyebrow darted up, curious.

“You know I have more money than I know what to do with,” she started, and instantly Abby straightened her back, alarmed. “Let me give you some money, and-”

“No,” the red head shook her head decidedly, her brows knitted together. “I can manage.”

“What if next time you get a client a lot less… gentle as me?”

A flicker of doubt flashed in Abby’s green eyes, and Abby looked down, cupping her mug of coffee with both hands, her lips pinched in a thin line. Taking advantage of the girl’s silence, she shifted a bit closer, reaching over to lightly touch Abby’s knee.

“Leave this job,” she gently insisted, softening her voice. “You’re a good girl, Abby. You should take care of your mother, not spend the night with a weird, broken stranger.”

A twitch to the corner of Abby’s lips preceded the flash of her green eyes to her, and she grimaced in response, patting Abby’s knee gently.

“Will it really be okay?” The girl finally asked with a small voice, seemingly willing to hide her head between her shoulders like a turtle.

“If I’m offering it, it means it is,” she still assured.

“Are you really sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“Okay,” Abby nodded, relief washing over her features. “Because my boss is a fucking asshole.”

It made her laugh as Abby gathered the plates and mugs on the tray to bring it down, and while the girl left, she fished her scroll from the pouch at her bet, powering it on for the first time in weeks. When she knew she was going over the range of the CCT, she would turn it off, knowing it was useless to keep it on.

So after a quick call to the bank and transferring a very generous amount on one of the cards she carried on her, she exited the room and went downstairs just in time to hear raised voices behind the door leading to the kitchen, behind the counter. For a moment she wondered if she should intervene, but just as she took her decision, the door swung open, and a red faced, visibly angry Abby stomped out, her green eyes finding her instantly.

Following the red head outside, she found Abby standing in the cool morning air, taking deep breaths greedily with her hands on her hips. Stopping a few feet away, she waited on Abby, letting her take all the time she needed to calm down.

Finally, the girl turned around, running a trembling hand in her hair and offered an equally trembling smile to her.

“Here,” she extended the card she had made for Abby, knowing she saw set for a couple of years at least. Enough to take care of her mother. “And next time you find a job, please, take something better than this.”

Instead of taking the card, Abby closed the distance and wrapped her arms around her neck, drawing her to a very tight hug, wordlessly burying her face in her neck. With a silent huff, she returned the gesture, even threading her fingers in rust-red locks as she leaned her cheek against Abby’s head. Ignoring the stares they earned to themselves by passerby, she held Abby for as long as she needed, not in any rush to return to her lonely journey yet.

“Thank you,” Abby murmured in the depths of her neck, tightening the embrace.

For the first time in a long, _long_ time, she felt her heart lighter by the endlessly grateful tone Abby used, and she felt a bit proud of herself that she helped someone in need.

“It’s my pleasure, really.”

“Miss Schnee?” Abby softly said as she pulled away, quickly wiping her cheeks.

“Please,” she rolled her eyes with a huff. “You will live off my money for years. You can definitely call me Weiss.”

It made the girl chuckle as she took the card and the piece of paper on which she had written the cards information for her to remember and put it away in her pocket, before returning her green eyes on her, locking with hers.

“Weiss,” Abby started again, her voice softer. “Please, be careful on your journey.”

Letting out a non-committal hum as she darted her eyes away, her attention was quickly brought back when a soft hand cupped her cheek and turned her head back to Abby, who then leaned in to softly kiss her on the lips.

Widening her eyes as she let out a strangled, surprised sound, a soft, purring chuckle reached her ears as Abby kissed her again, and this time, her resistance melted against those soft lips, returning the kiss with the slightest bit of reluctance. Sliding her eyes closed as she reached a hand to lightly settle it on the red head’s hip, she sighed softly into the kiss, feeling her heart beating faster.

Chasing after her when Abby pulled away, the red head chuckled breathlessly as she stopped her, instead offering her a knowing wink.

“For the road,” Abby all but purred.

Drawing her hand from Abby’s hip as if she’s been burned, she nodded crisply, her back ramrod straight, and with the red head’s laughter ringing in her ears she turned on her heels and walked away, once again with the ease and grace of an automaton as she tried to ignore the deep blush burning her face and how her heart pounded in her ears.

****

Her next mark was oddly fast and prone to evasion for one of its size. Megoliaths tended to be slow and, although it preferred avoiding conflict, once provoked it usually would come charging. And yet, this one had her tracking it through an entire continent for months, and she finally found its trail just on the outskirts of a town that she didn’t remember the name, in Vale.

It was somewhat near Beacon, and when it fell, the surrounding area suffered some damage that was never repaired.

So she wandered through the town, surprised to see and hear so many people that still lived here.

Surprised, and horrified. There was a Grimm large enough to wreck every building of this town. If it was ever drawn here, the number of injured, or worse, casualties would be astronomical…

She stopped in her tracks, her eyes widening in silent horror. What should she do? Knock on every door and hope the people would simply leave? Even if she decided to engage it, so close to the town, it could still wreak havoc if it tried to leave like it had done numerous times before-

“Weiss?”

The sound of her name, for the first time in… years, maybe, made her perk up, her thoughts coming to a sudden halt because this voice… it sounded familiar. She _knew_ that voice. Slowly, carefully, she turned to the origin of the voice, cautiously looking over her shoulder.

“Oh my Gods,” Blake murmured, dropping the bags she was carrying. “Oh my Gods, it’s… it’s really you!”

Frozen in place, she was torn between going to Blake and run away as she felt her eyes widening in panic at the sight of Blake’s ears jerked back. But when Blake’s golden, familiar eyes locked with hers, she couldn’t help but guiltily look away, taking a step back as she felt like suddenly, she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.

Her chest constricted, she found it was hard to breathe as she could feel panic coursing through her veins. All these fears, all the doubts she had before about her eventual reunion with her old teammates came back tenfold, and for the moment she was rendered helpless, at the mercy of Blake’s angry words… if they ever came.

“Come here,” she heard Blake muttering near her, and she was brought back to reality when she was grabbed by the shoulders only to be pulled into the faunus’ arms.

As Blake closed her arms tightly around her, pressing her face in her neck, she stayed there, stock still, her breath caught in her throat. When the faunus’ arms squeezed even more tightly, Blake snuggling closer with a quiet, discreet sniffle, she felt her eyes prickling, and her doubts and fears were brushed aside, for the moment at least.

Slowly bringing her arms up to finally respond to the hug, she let her eyelids slid close, finding she had no strength left to fight against snuggling closer just as Blake was doing, clutching at Blake’s back without restraint and remembering all the things about her friend; how curly her hair was, how dark they were, how warm Blake was, how she somehow always had this trace of vanilla whatever she did…

“Blake,” she gasped, willing to, at the very least, not cry right then and there. “Blake, I’m… I’m so sorry…”

Instantly the faunus pulled away, not much, just enough for their eyes to meet, and without an ounce of hesitation Blake brushed a stray lock of her hair behind her ear, as if nothing had happened, as if she had stayed, as if she hadn’t left them without saying anything…

“Don’t be, Weiss,” Blake’s voice was gentle, soft, as her golden eyes stared right into her own. “Not to me. I understand why you left.”

“You-you do?” She couldn’t help but stutter, somehow not believing her ears.

A small smile pulled the faunus’ lips then, and understanding danced in her eyes as Blake straightened her back a bit, but kept her hands on her shoulders still.

“I did the same thing, once upon a time. You left to protect the ones you love from danger.”

Well, it wasn’t exactly like this, but as it was one of the reasons, she didn’t argue and instead dipped her head, guilt once again gnawing at her, but a soft touch under her chin brought her attention back as Blake gently made their eyes meet again.

“Now I know that this isn’t always the answer,” the faunus continued gently, “and I _would_ have preferred you tell us before you left, so I could go with you. But what’s done is done, and you’re here now,” she smiled brightly, squeezing her shoulders affectionately. “How did you find us? When did you arrive?”

As much as she was glad that Blake understood, something she said made her freeze again, fear running rampant in her mind.

“‘Us’?” She repeated weakly, feeling her lips trembling. “Yang is here too?”

“Yeah, I stayed with her ever since you left! At first I wanted to join you, but with the kid and all I didn’t want to leave her alone-”

“What kid?”

Freezing in the middle of her sentence, Blake’s face melted from gentle reassurance to mild panic, as her hands had clamped on her shoulders, offering a strange, awkward touch.

“Um…”

“Did Yang have a child while I was gone?” She couldn’t help but feel betrayed, her eyes watering again as pain filled her chest.

They had been together for years, after the Great War. Having children had been something they had both dearly wanted, but… And now, Yang did what? Found a new partner and have a child?

A short air of reproach contorted Blake’s features as her golden eyes stared at her sternly for a moment, her lips pinching.

“It’s not like you were gone a single year, Weiss. It’s been eight years. That’s enough time to move on.”

Eight… years? That long? Yes, it had felt like an eternity at times, but she couldn’t possibly have been gone eight years?!

“So… that’s what she did? Move on?” She asked in a whisper, finding all her strength gone with the blink of an eye.

She swayed on her feet, feeling the world moving under her as she felt incredibly light-headed. Maybe that was why Yang never answered her letters. Maybe that was why she was never granted a response, because… she was nothing more than a memory, relegated with so many others in a dusty corner. Their life, their house, what they had…

“In a way,” she heard the uneasiness in Blake’s voice, still reaching her ears somehow. “Look, I… I shouldn’t be the one telling you this. Come on.”

Mindlessly following Blake with her eyes as the faunus gathered the bags she had dropped, she realised Blake was walking away from her, and she had half a mind to stay there, to stay planted there, in denial that the person who was driving her forward… had moved on from her.

She was better with her unanswered letters. At least, with them, she could still dream. Pretend that she still had some kind of bond with the love of her life. Now if she followed Blake, if she knew it was real… What would she do?

“Weiss?”

Rising haggard eyes up to Blake, who had backtracked to her when she noticed she wasn’t following, it made the faunus grimace slightly, sympathy in her eyes.

“It’s not as bad as you think,” she murmured for only consolation. “Come on. Follow me.”

Her body moved on its own, following behind the faunus through the streets and climbing the few steps in front of an old-looking house. It had seen some damage, from when Beacon fell years ago, and apparently no one had bothered repairing it. Then again, it could be said for everything in this town.

With her hands occupied, she was barely aware of it when Blake kicked somewhat gently the door three times, before sending a short worried glance her way, which brought her back to reality.

Oh Gods, after all this time… She was going to see Yang again. Maybe not in the ideal situation, but if she could have just a glimpse of her, once again…

The door opened, but instead of a tall, blonde woman, the love of her life… it was a child, a girl, with pale blonde hair that were tied back, and fell in the softest waves, looking as light as silk.

As the girl welcomed Blake back with a large smile, her eyes then turned to her, curious, and she almost cried right there on the porch when she realised that the girl had Yang’s eyes.

“Hey, since when do you knock?” The love of her life’s voice said with such nonchalance and affection as it resonated in her ears, and she looked up from the child just as Yang stood in the doorframe, her eyes, too, passing from Blake to her. Instantly, all the warmth she held was gone, instead Yang stared at her sternly, her widened eyes the only sign of her surprise.

“Look what I found!” Blake tried to joke, but her words fell flat, and after glancing at both of them, the faunus slipped past Yang and disappeared inside the house.

She had thought about this moment, of course. She had imagined that Yang would welcome her back with open arms, or they would meet again and she would scream at her, roaring and burning with all the fury and passion she knew she had.

But she had never, ever thought it would be like… this. Silence, as Yang stared at her motionlessly. With a little girl clinging to her sleeve.

“Ivory,” Yang finally said after an agonisingly long moment, lowering her eyes to the girl, who, if she had to guess, would be… seven, maybe older. Wait… “Do you recognise this person?”

The girl, sensing the tension, tried to hide a bit more behind Yang, but one lilac eye still looked at her curiously, before her small head went up, nodding shortly.

“It’s the lady in the pictures,” the girl almost whispered, shy.

“That’s right,” Yang continued, her voice still stern and monotone, her eyes drilled on her all the while. “Do you remember who she is?”

“Yes,” the girl nodded again, once again returning her eyes to her curiously. “Weiss Schnee. My other mommy.”

It took some time to reach her ears. To be _heard_ , then processed, as the new information hit her like a truck as she looked up at Yang, confused and lost, hoping to see it was some kind of sick joke.

But Yang remained still, her expression as hard as before, but in her eyes there was a glimpse of sadness, of betrayal, and even if she wanted to speak, to say something, to get clarifications, her words were stuck in her throat, locked behind her lips, barred from the million questions she wanted to ask.

“My other…”

Turning her attention on the girl instead, she could see already the traits she had of Yang, but as she looked at her, Ivory offered a small and tentative, cornered smile, and she saw, discreet, a small dimple appearing. The same she had, when she smiled in the same way, that Yang had made fun of and loved just as much.

Before she could prevent it, she fainted, the exhaustion added with the stress too much to bear for the moment.


	2. Chapter 2

She woke up surrounded in warmth and comfortable, a feeling she was entirely too unused of after so long sleeping on her bedroll straight on the ground, and, distantly, she could hear voices, conversing in hushed tones. Fluttering her eyes open, she blinked at a wooden ceiling, lighted by dancing orange light, and the quiet crackling somewhere on her side answered the question of why she was so warm. Shifting a bit, she looked around her, realising she was laying on a couch, and then-

She made a small noise of surprise with a slight jump when, sitting right beside the couch and staring at her intently, Ivory was there, observing her with her big, familiar lilac eyes. The hushed conversation stopped then, farther in the room.

“Hi,” the girl only said with a small smile.

“Hi,” she said after a blink, wondering what she should do.

“Do you feel better?”

“Much. Thank you for asking.”

“I put the blanket on you, so you wouldn’t get cold,” the girl said with a smile, apparently eager to talk to her, now.

“Ah. A thoughtful gesture. Thank you.”

“I also brought a pillow, but I didn’t want to wake you, so instead I’ve just been sitting on it.”

“I see,” was all she said, amused as the girl seemed about to keep blabbering.

“Ivy,” Yang’s voice called, gentle, if a bit wry. “She just woke up. Can you go play in your room for a bit?”

Deflating on her spot, the girl sighed with a grumble, but still stood, walking over to the hallway as Yang stood from the kitchen table.

“Thanks, baby,” the blonde murmured with a soft touch when the girl passed in front of her.

Then, when Ivory’s door closed, Yang slowly made her way closer as she sat up on the couch, keeping the blanket gathered in her arms, no matter how hot she was.

A daughter? She couldn’t wrap her head around it still, even though what she had seen. When? _How_? Did this happen after she left? Before? How come she didn’t know, all this time? Why on Remnant did Yang thought this information wasn’t worth passing along?

The couch dipped beside her, and it took a while before she looked up, her hands clutching at the blanket still.

“I don’t… I don’t understand,” was what she finally managed to mumble, frowning. “How? I thought we only did the procedure on me, and we both know how well it turned out.”

A long, drawn out sigh sounded from Yang, as the blonde leaned her elbows on her knees but kept her attention right in front of her, doing her best it seemed to avoid her stare. She felt her heart bleed at that, the knife that had been planted there so long ago hurting anew.

“Remember how the doctors took samples from both of us, just in case?” Yang finally said, still staring right in front of her. “I wanted it to be a surprise. I thought it would make you happy. But when I was sure I was pregnant and was about to tell you… you never came home.”

It felt like a ton of brick suddenly fell on top of her chest, keeping her from breathing, from thinking as she clutched the blanket in her lap, staring with wide eyes at the floor.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She could only breathe, weak and trembling. “Why didn’t you call me, or… or something?”

A bitter huff was Yang’s only response for a moment, before the blonde turned a bit to her, a flash of lilac eyes sent her way.

“Remember how you stopped answering my calls when you were working?” Her voice was even and cold, and so unlike her that it made her wonder. Yes, she knew it hurt Yang that she left. But even before she did, she had distanced herself, involuntarily, yes, but she still did. “I didn’t want to be directed to voicemail again, so I waited for you to come home. And you know, it was getting late but you used to work late during that time, so I didn’t think much more than that.”

“But what about my note? I left you a note!”

“Yeah. In the bedroom. That I only go to when I’m going to bed,” the blonde retorted flatly. “By the time I noticed your note, it was already night. I called you anyway, but you must have been already outside the range of the CCT.”

Daring to look up at the love of her life, she hated to see the remnant pain in her eyes, to see her features pulled in tired anger, to see the bitter and wistful expression attached to the distant memory. It hurt still, but with time, it was more bearable, more manageable.

“Yang, I…” Her voice broke then, and she swallowed the lump in her throat before continuing. “I would have stayed if I had known. I would have come back if I did.”

Somehow, her words softened Yang’s expression as the blonde slowly sat back on the couch, sinking against the cushions with a short, tired sigh.

“I know. It’s not your style to quit on something you started.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me?” She pressed but still kept her voice soft. Far from her to blame Yang for the lack of information, she only meant it as a genuine inquiry.

“The real question is _how_ exactly did you want me to tell you?” Was the first sign of irritation in Yang’s voice, a slight snap back at her. “Besides the note you left, I had nothing!”

“What?” She couldn’t help but feel drained of blood, knowing that she blanched right away. “What about my letters?”

She already could feel her voice shaking, her fingers curling helplessly in the soft fabric of the blanket. All this time… all this time without answers from Yang…

Narrowing her eyes at her, the blonde practically spat the words at her feet, clearly thinking it was some kind of joke.

“What do you mean? What letters?”

This time, she could literally feel her heart sinking in her chest, as well as her eyes welling up as she stared at Yang with wide, pleading eyes, her breath short. It was as if her chest was suddenly much too small for her lungs, constricted and unable to expend to their normal volume.

“What do _you_ mean?” She couldn’t help her voice pitching in the high notes, all these years of anguish met unanswered now exposed in plain sight, and she felt light-headed again. “The letters I sent you! I have been sending you letters all this time, I-I must have sent you hundreds, and you never answered any of them and I- I thought-”

Instantly Yang’s brows furrowed in concern, and she noticed the way the blonde looked up and back at Blake, who was making herself discreet in the kitchen, before returning her attention on her, turning once again a bit more to her in telling interest.

“Did you send them to the house?” Yang asked in a much softer tone. “I asked the neighbour to call me if I had mail, but…”

“No, I… I didn’t know if you’d stay there, with the way I left,” she answered from the tip of her lips, feeling them trembling as she barely managed to keep the tears from spilling from her eyes. Sniffling quietly, she let out a sigh. “I have been sending them to your father, I figured… I figured that whatever you decided to do, he would know where you were. I asked him to forward them to you.”

A beat of silence answered her as Yang straightened her back slightly, this time a soft frown forming on her face.

“My dad?” The blonde repeated quietly. “But I’ve been to his place a thousand times and he never told me anything about letters.”

“They can’t have all been lost in the mail!” She argued pathetically, trying to meet Yang’s eyes. “I’m not lying!”

But as soon as her words were uttered, a warm, reassuring hand rested on her knee, and she had half a mind to look down at it before returning her attention on Yang, who managed to offer her a small, hesitant smile.

“I believe you,” the blonde softly let out. “I always found it strange that you gave no news. That wasn’t your style at all.”

As she felt her heart thumping in the depths of her chest in a flicker of hope, Yang drew her hand back, and instead used it to grab her scroll from her pocket, and thumbed it shortly, the blonde’s features pulled in an unreadable mask.

Finally, she pulled it to her ear, and she could hear faintly the ringing as Yang waited for her father to pick up. And eventually, he did.

But Yang didn’t seem interested to beat around the bush.

“Hey dad,” Yang greeted shortly as she stood suddenly, overcome with restless energy. “Got a question for you: did you ever get letters for me? From Weiss?”

As Yang started to pace in front of the couch, she stayed there, staring up at Yang with wide, pleading eyes, hugging the blanket with trembling arms. She could hear Tai’s voice talking, but nothing clear enough for her to understand the words being said.

“Are you sure?” Yang pressed, darting her lilac eyes to her as she continued her pacing. Then, after a handful of seconds, “Are you really, _really_ sure?” Then, after another second. “This is the hill you want to die on?”

Pacing for a moment more as Yang’s left hand kept curling into a fist and relaxing by her side, she couldn’t help but notice the unreadable, neutral mask of Yang slowly shifting and crumbling into the first signs of anger, until Yang stopped in her tracks, standing still in front of the hearth.

“Because Weiss is sitting right in front of me and is wondering why I never received any of the hundreds of letters she sent me.”

Even from her spot on the couch, she could hear the deafening silence from the other side of the line, and as the seconds trickled by, the lilac of Yang’s eyes shifted to red, her jaw so tightly clenched that she could almost hear them shatter.

Finally, Tai’s voice sounded quietly, and Yang’s hair started to smoke, her eyes instantly shifting to burning crimson.

“Weiss is not Raven!” Yang all but barked in her scroll, furious like she had never seen with her left hand held in such a tight fist that it trembled by Yang’s side. “Did Raven ever sent you a letter!?”

Before either Blake or her could say anything, Yang marched towards the door, leaving scorched footprints on the carpet on her way and opened the door with such aggressivity that she nearly ripped it from its hinges.

“YOU BETTER BRING ALL OF THEM TO ME RIGHT NOW, DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME!?”

The door slammed shut behind the fury that was Yang, and she could swear the whole house shook from it. She guessed that Yang was going further away from the house to continue the ‘conversation’ with her father, and she turned numb eyes to Blake, who’s feline ears were flat on her head, quietly just as furious as Yang was.

But when their eyes met, Blake’s ears perked up in worry, probably noticing that she was maybe five shades paler by the way the room kept spinning around her, and promptly stood from her seat to join her in the living room.

“I-I wrote her at least one letter each month,” she couldn’t help but say to Blake, barely noticing how closely her friend sat to her. “I never stopped writing to her even though there was- There was never an answer. I kept trying, I never- I never gave up, I-”

Clamping her mouth shut when Blake gently took her trembling, ice-cold hand in her steady ones, she swallowed thickly, feeling her eyes prickling.

“I think I’m going to pass out.”

“Breathe, Weiss,” Blake instantly shifted closer, rubbing a warm, reassuring hand across her back.

“I thought she hated me… After all this time, I was so terrified…”

“Weiss,” Blake repeated firmly, this time grabbing her shoulder. Looking up and locking her eyes with Blake’s golden ones, she felt the faunus squeeze gently. “ _Breathe_.”

Forcing herself to heed Blake’s words, she managed to take a deep, if shaky breath, and let it out slowly. As she focused on slowing her rapid, ragged breaths, Blake with her every step of the way, they were interrupted when a small voice sounded.

“Auntie?”

Blake’s attention snapping away from her and instead turning entirely to the little girl standing fearfully in the hallway, the faunus smiled warmly, her features softening in a way she had never seen.

“Yes, honey?”

“Mommy is very angry,” Ivory murmured, glancing towards the door that Yang nearly ripped off. “The house shook. It scared me.”

“Don’t be scared, honey,” Blake instantly gestured for her to come closer, and the girl practically ran in the faunus’ arms, curling up on her lap and hiding her face in Blake’s neck. “Your mother left the house because she knew you don’t like seeing her angry.”

As she observed the two for a moment, wondering exactly since _when_ Blake was so comfortable with children, she noticed one lilac eye staring at her from the depths of Blake’s neck, the pale blonde head securely tucked under Blake’s chin. When their eyes met, the girl hid her face deeper into Blake’s neck.

“Maybe we could do something nice for her? For when she comes back?” Blake suggested, looking down at the girl curled up on her lap.

A silence met Blake as the faunus waited patiently, gently rubbing the girl’s back, and as she watched them… She couldn’t help but feel jealous. She was the one who should have been there. She was the one Ivory should seek comfort to, not Blake.

But she hadn’t been there, Blake had. And now… Now, she didn’t know what to do. She wasn’t a mother, she was a strange woman who came in the middle of the evening and fainted in front of her.

Looking away and turning her attention to the floor, she felt a strange emptiness spread in her chest, her thoughts, for once in her life, halting their endless tracks, leaving her thoughtless and heartless.

A husk of the woman she could have been. Of the woman she had been. Right now, she was something new, but… She wasn’t sure it was a good new.

She had been running herself ragged for so many years, kept pushing on well beyond her limits, kept hoping for something good to come out of this, only to find out she had taken the worst decision of her life all those years ago.

She wasn’t a mother. She was a disaster waiting to happen.

She definitely didn’t belong here.

Suddenly standing on shaky legs that she wouldn’t be surprised if they gave out from under her, her chest constricting and a lump the size of her fist lodged in her throat, she slowly made her way to the kitchen, where her jacket and her weapon were, only to stop dead in her tracks when she heard Blake’s voice.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

It was neutral, even, but even after all this time she could hear the underlying tension, hear the reproving words hidden underneath, and if she turned around, she knew she’d be met by stern, hard golden eyes and flattened feline ears.

So she didn’t turn, and she ignored what Blake said, instead grabbing her jacket and quickly shrugging it on.

“Weiss?” Blake’s voice came again, this time tight, a touch of nervousness and even hurt in it.

Pausing for a second when she heard it, she sucked a breath in, letting her heart bleed in her chest all over again. She didn’t belong here. She had no right. She didn’t deserve to stay after all the pain she caused.

Suffering alone was her punishment, her cross to bear, and she would gladly carry it if it meant she wouldn’t disturb the family Blake, Yang and Ivory were.

Securing Myrtenaster to her belt as she went to the door, _now_ she was sure she was going to pass out.

“Weiss!” Blake called again, anger coloring her voice.

This time, she stopped, looking over her shoulder back at Blake, seeing that the faunus had set the girl back on the couch as she had been about to run after her, and when their eyes met, she felt even more confused than before.

Anger, pain and betrayal danced in her golden eyes, and she turned away, ignoring the unbearable need to cry and scream at the same time, and maybe Blake saw it in her eyes because when she opened the door, the faunus didn’t call for her, neither did she try to run after her.

But she barely made a step away from the door and she came face to face with Yang, who had been climbing the three steps in took to reach the door. She looked a lot calmer than before, exhausted too, but when she stopped dead in her tracks it caught Yang’s attention and lilac eyes locked with her, the exhaustion vanishing from her features as emotions passed from one to the other.

Feeling like her heart might explode in her chest, she stared, wide-eyed, as Yang took a simple step back, hurt plain in her face when she noticed the weapon at her hip and the pouches at her belt, understanding right then and there that she was leaving.

“Where are you going?”

She had expected Yang to be angry. Angry to see her leave again, even more so while she was gone.

But her voice was so soft, so gentle, and it felt like a hundred knives lodged themselves right into her heart, and leaving now seemed like the worst choice possible. She was lost, so desperately lost, and she wasn’t sure if she will be able to find her way back one day.

Just a couple hours prior to this moment, she hadn’t felt _good_ per say, but she had felt leagues better than she did right now.

And as Yang stared at her, waiting on an answer apparently, she let her heart implode, guilt and shame and regret and sorrow surging forward so powerfully that she couldn’t breathe as she felt her eyes welling up, and she simply stood there like a complete idiot, crying and her chest hurting like her heart had been ripped out of it and unable to breathe, feeling like she was drowning even if she was standing on solid, dry ground.

The flicker of concern that had danced in Yang’s lilac eyes was traded by full blown concern as the blonde jumped the steps altogether, cupping her face as gently as the terror growing in Yang’s eyes allowed.

“Breathe,” Yang ordered, her voice shaking with worry. “Weiss, _breathe_!”

White dots was starting to fill her vision as her knees buckled from under her, and she fell with the grace of a rag doll, Yang following her and managed to catch her before she could hit her head on the ground.

“Breathe!” Yang yelled, full blown panic making the left, warm hand against her cheek shake uncontrollably.

She was vaguely aware that the door of the house opened and another pair of hands were on her, but the exchange of panicked voices was lost to her as the white dots kept filling her vision, the pain of her ever constricting chest overwhelming and eventually, darkness took her.

****

When she woke up, she did with the impression a truck had rolled over her forty-five times. Not a single inch of her didn’t hurt, from the roots of her hair all the way to the tips of her nails.

The quiet crackling coming from beside her and the soft warmth enveloping her felt familiar, but her head was in such a jumbled mess that she couldn’t quite remember why it felt familiar, and in her state, the only thing she wanted to do was go back to sleep and never wake up.

A quiet, soft sniffle right beside her head caught her attention.

Forcing at least one eye to crack open tiredly, she barely could turn her head towards the noise, and she was met with a mass of blonde hair, pressed against the soft cushion of the couch she was once again laying on.

Twice in about an hour, she couldn’t help but think ruefully, closing her eye and turning her head back with her lips twisting in disdain. She truly was a basket case.

“You had it really rough out there, huh?”

Yang had spoke barely above a murmur, and she wasn’t sure if it was truly directed at her as she creaked her eye open again, trying to look at what Yang was doing. As she turned her head a bit more, she noticed that Blake was curled up in the loveseat right beside the couch, her features twisted in worry even in her sleep, and on the floor beside Yang was a box, old and worn, filled to the brim with letters that were very familiar to her as she could make out her own neat, elegant handwriting.

Oh… Yang was reading her letters…

Decided to be dead to the world for another couple of days at least, she turned her head away and into her original position, but did it too quickly, an already sore muscle tensing painfully and made her wince with the barest hiss, but it apparently was enough to catch Yang’s attention as the blonde head straightened and lilac eyes dived right into hers.

Carefully, after a handful of seconds and visibly hesitantly, Yang brought her left hand up and gently, tenderly, brushed the back of her fingers against her cheek, and she couldn’t help but lean into the touch, closing her eyes like a cat seeking attention.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” Yang murmured, her scratching voice telling that she had cried.

Yet another stab to her already ripped out heart, she couldn’t help but think bitterly.

“I’m sorry,” she said in the same way, hoping time could stop right now. With Yang, the love of her life, touching her so tenderly again. “I don’t know what happened, I’m so sorry-”

“Weiss,” Yang gently interrupted, the warm fingers dancing across her face and following the line of an eyebrow, and running along a scar that Yang had never seen, running over her right eyebrow in a long, wide stroke. “Rest. We’ll talk when you’re ready. Alright?”

Opening her eyes slowly, wary to meet Yang’s eyes and see all her fears reflected in them, she saw the blonde smiling shyly, her chin resting on her right prosthetic arm as she still held an opened letter. A couple was already scattered on the other side of Yang, opened and already read.

So, meeting Yang’s soft eyes again, she decided to take strength in them and slowly, hesitantly, nodded wordlessly. Closing her eyes again, she let the soft touch of Yang’s warm fingers lull her back to sleep.

When she woke up again, it was morning, early, just at the crack of dawn, and she was glad to see both Blake and Yang fast asleep, even if she winced for Yang’s neck, in an angle that looked entirely uncomfortable. But she didn’t wake any of them. Right now, she couldn’t handle anyone, or anything.

A shower would be nice and would probably help sort through her thoughts, and so she silently searched for the bathroom, finally finding it and made quick work of her clothes. Without waiting another second, she climbed in and started the shower, cranking the warm handle almost all the way up.

The water was scorching hot, but she didn’t care. She felt numb, empty inside, and she was as glad to have the feel of the hot water on her as she was glad that, once again, she felt warm.

But instead of standing, she found herself curled up in a ball under the water, resting her forehead on her kneecaps as her arms were wrapped around her knees. Time passed like this, not that she was really aware of it.

She knew it had been far too long when the scorching hot water was traded by ice-cold one, and she found it strange that no one came knocking at the door to check up on her. Then again, maybe they wanted to give her the time to collect herself.

Still, even if the water was cold now she didn’t move, and didn’t want to either. It was only when her hands started throbbing painfully under the cold water that she decided she had wallowed enough in her own pity.

When she finally emerged from the bathroom, shivering, everyone was up and gathered in the kitchen, and three pairs of eyes turned to her in synch. The thought of retreating back into the bathroom fluttered in her mind, knowing that she wasn’t prepared for any conversation or discussion of any kind, but doing so would be rude and pointless.

So, as her hands felt like they would burst at the seams with each beat of her heart, she winced and made her way passed the kitchen, instead returning to the living room and stood in front of the hearth, extending her shaking, throbbing hands towards the warmth the fire crackling gently provided.

A strangely tense silence hovered in the kitchen, one that she tried to ignore even though she could feel the small hairs at her nape stand on end, feeling the stares on her. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know what to do. She was so confused and tired and hurt and lost, and she wondered shortly if she will ever find a way to feel normal again.

She hadn’t felt normal in years.

“Have a good day, baby!”

Yang’s voice sounding as cheerfully as it could caught her attention as she turned to look towards the door, seeing Ivory smile at Yang after pulling away from a hug, then going to Blake to do the same.

“We’ll see you after school, shrimp,” the faunus added, ruffling the pale blonde locks that were held in a tight, high ponytail.

With an annoyed scoff, Ivory pulled away and, scowling, the girl tightened her ponytail after fixing her hair. Then, after glancing at the clock on the wall, gasped in horror, grabbed her backpack, and scrammed out the door.

“Be careful!” Yang called after her, a smile pulling her lips.

“I’m always careful!” The girl shouted back, and it made Yang roll her eyes as she closed the door.

“You sound like Weiss,” Yang grumbled under her breath, oblivious of her stare on her.

A presence beside her brought her attention back, and she glanced to her right, seeing that Blake was standing there silently, a worried frown on her face as her golden eyes were on her red, trembling hands.

“Are you okay?” The faunus asked quietly, pointing to them.

Lowering her eyes to her hands, she turned them over, palm towards her, and slowly, wincing in pain, closed them into loose fists. She shouldn’t have let them soak so long in the cold water. It was going to take a while for them to stop hurting.

“Yes,” she hissed through gritted teeth, slowly opening and closing her hands to bring the circulation back in them. “Frostbites. I left my hands too long under cold water, in the shower.”

“I see…”

“That happened when you fought the King Taijitu, right? In Solita’s tundra?”

Turning on the other side, she saw Yang stepping closer to them, her lilac eyes, too on her hands that were moving just a bit faster than before.

“Yes,” she quietly let out, dipping her head to avoid Yang’s stare. “You’re at that letter already?”

“I’ve been reading all night,” the blonde sighed as she stopped right beside her. “Slept a little just before dawn, maybe for an hour, then Ivy was up and I had to help her get ready for school. I was about to crash, actually.”

Letting out a non-committal hum as she focused her attention on her hands, she still noticed in the corner of her eye the look Blake and Yang shared, wordlessly having a conversation between them, one that she could guess the subject.

“So…” Yang slowly let out, shifting anxiously beside her. “When I’ll wake up, if you’re ready… we could talk.”

Just the idea was tying her stomach into painful knots, but she had known it was coming. Even though she had hoped she could avoid it by staying in the shower forever.

“Okay.”

“Okay. See you later.”

Turning as smoothly as a brick, Yang walked away towards the hallway, and a silence rested on Blake and her as Yang’s footsteps retreated, and eventually, they heard Yang close the door of her bedroom.

But before Blake could say anything, she beat her to it, a flicker of irritation sparking to life in the pit of her stomach.

“Why did you even say it wasn’t as bad as I thought?” She snapped without any real bite to it. “You were right; it’s even worst!”

“But it’s still salvageable,” Blake spoke gently, as if she had expected such comment. “You two need to talk. Desperately. And Ivy would be really glad if you could introduce yourself, too. She’s kind of particular with certain things. She reminds me of a certain someone.”

A soft nudge to her side signaled that Blake was teasing, but the mere mention of the child she hadn’t even known she had made her breath catch in her throat, her heart thumping in her chest and her hands trembled again. Seemingly unaware of her uneasiness, Blake settled a warm, steady hand on her shoulder, and she was glad for the contact; it kept her mind from fraying like it did, last night.

She could see, in the corner of her eyes, how Blake hesitated, opening and closing her mouth to say something but deciding against it, and, after squeezing her shoulder gently, Blake took a sharp breath in, seemingly steeling her nerves.

“What happened last night?” Her friend asked softly, concern coloring her voice.

Opening and closing her hands smoothly and painlessly now, she took a moment to rub them together gently, bringing a bit more warmth to them.

“I don’t know,” she finally let out. Just thinking back at that moment was terrifying. “I… panicked. I… I felt like I was dying.”

“Yang certainly thought you were,” Blake spoke quietly, the hand on her shoulder traveling across the other to wrap her arm around her, and the faunus gently embraced her, nuzzling her temple.

After a second of hesitation, she turned in Blake’s arms and returned the embrace, grasping at Blake’s shirt as she buried her face in the faunus’ neck much like Ivory did last night. The thought made her tighten her grip around Blake.

They stayed close like this for a moment, Blake gently petting her head, and slowly, she felt herself relax, and in this moment with Blake, she had the fleeting thought that maybe… this was _really_ salvageable.

“Can I read your letters too?” Blake asked in a whisper, right in her ear.

“They were meant for Yang, but sure.”

“I can read through the naughty bits, I’ve read worst.”

Lightly slapping the faunus’ back and making Blake chuckling in response, she felt a strange, long forgotten sense of familiarity about this interaction that settled the last of her nerves, and she smiled, hidden away against Blake’s neck.

Blake insisted that she rested a bit more, now that she had a good shower and that everything was settled in the house, and she was a bit apprehensive to do so until Blake sat on the other end of the couch, gladly lifting her feet and putting them on her lap as Blake read. Her fingers, light and hovering, barely brushed the skin of her ankles as she dozed off, lulled by the soft touch.

She was woken up by Yang, who was yawning when she came in the kitchen, and the following squeeze on her ankle from Blake. When she looked down at her friend, Blake seemed innocent enough, keeping her nose in her book, but a brief flash of golden eyes was sent her way, followed by another squeeze to her ankle.

So steeling her nerves, she gathered her courage with both hands and sat up, catching Yang’s attention by the sudden movement, and at that moment, their eyes met.

Her heart, that she had thought out of her chest and dead somewhere, thumped against her ribcage as Yang tried a tentative smile, and when she shakily returned it, Yang gestured to come join her in the kitchen. After a discreet thumb up from Blake, she stood, her weak legs carrying her to the kitchen and she hesitantly sat on the stool by the counter. The closest seat to Yang, as the blonde moved about the kitchen and about to prepare something to eat.

Still, before she could even utter a single word, Yang eyed her critically, taking her in from head tot toe.

“Did you even eat while you were away?” Yang grumbled, her blonde brows furrowed. “You look even thinner than during the war.”

Feeling the small scraps of bravery she had gathered evaporate right in front of her at that comment, another wave of shame washed over her, because she knew Yang was right. She hadn’t been taking care of herself for a while, now.

“I-I ate when I could,” was the only thing she mumbled, keeping her eyes down on the ground.

She toyed with the hem of her battered sleeve, seeing how it had frills and the seams were slowly coming undone. How dirty it was. She wondered shortly when was the last time she washed her gear, took the time to repair or fix her clothes… And she could not _believe_ that she stood in front of Yang with her… rags.

She had dreamed of seeing Yang again, so many times before. It was one of the reasons that she kept going, to finally return home to her love… But it was never like this. Not in a million years had she thought it would be like this.

She could barely look Yang in the eyes without being reminded that she left her when she was _pregnant_ of her child, that she wasn’t there to help her through it, that she wasn’t there to raise their child, that she hadn’t been there when Yang certainly needed it the most…

Nothing she could do could make it up to her. She had messed up so bad, and even though she had felt like a failure before, now she only wanted to be removed from existence and forgotten from anyone’s minds.

“Weiss?”

Snapping back to present with a jolt, she looked up only to see the concerned look Yang was giving her, and also noticed the plate filled with pancakes that she was waiting for her to take. With the tone Yang used, it wasn’t the first time she had called her name.

Gods, she was a mess.

Hesitantly taking the plate as she was chiding herself to have spaced out long enough for Yang to actually cook something, she thanked Yang for it and reluctantly moved to the kitchen table, dragging her feet. As she sat, she could see the glare Blake was sending her from the back of the living room, visibly gesturing at Yang and mouthed the word ‘talk!’ angrily.

But she felt so very fragile at the moment, like the barest breeze would be enough to shatter her, and she knew that Yang was much more than a breeze. Yang was a storm, cracking thunder and exploding volcano; she couldn’t take on such a storm in her state! But when Yang sat at the table a moment later, the expression on her face hurt a lot more than anything she had seen before.

Tired sadness, that years of anguish had made bearable but still hurt enough to never be forgotten, and cold anger danced in her lilac eyes, as if Yang already knew that she was going to try to remove herself from their lives at the first occasion.

It was in silence that they both poked around at their pancakes, and her heart sank in her chest at the remembrance of a time when she could barely get Yang to be silent for more than thirty seconds. And now, it was all that was between them, deep, distant silence.

Still, she had to at least apologise. To try and alleviate the crushing guilt keeping her from thinking clearly, from breathing fully.

“Yang, I…” she started, barely above her breath but it still caught Yang’s attention as she refused to look away from her plate. “I would have come back. I’m so, so sorry, I…”

A silence hovered over them again, and she felt her throat constrict, her breath wheezing in as her eyes welled up again, but she refused to look up, instead stabbing her fork in a fluffy pancake as she sniffled.

“I-I truly wish I was there with you,” her vision was blurry and her voice shook, but she kept going, hanging on as best she could. “I wish I was there to help you with your morning sickness. I would have massaged your feet after a long day even though I hate to even get near them. I would have given you everything you wanted, even if it was ice cream in the middle of the night to calm your cravings. I wish I could go back in time and start all over again. I wish I could have stayed to be there with you.”

She sniffled again, wiping with the back of her hand a tear that had fallen as she chastised herself that truly, she had no right to cry. She was the one who left.

“I’m sure you were still gorgeous with your pregnant belly, if not even more,” she tried to picture it, smiling sadly. “I would have kissed it every morning and every night, I would have cherished you every second of every day… I wish-I wish I could have held our child when she was born- I really, really wish I could go back in time and-”

“I know,” Yang softly interrupted, and she was a bit startled when Yang’s left hand came to gently wipe the tears from her cheeks. “I know.”

“Yang I’m-” she chocked, a sob racking her chest and stealing her breath. “I’m so sorry-”

“Weiss, stop apologising,” Yang interrupted in a gentle growl as she pulled her chair closer to her, still collecting her tears and wiping them away with her warm fingertips. “I know you are.”

“I’m sorry I was an asshole,” she still pushed on, wrapping a hand around Yang’s wrist and finally looked up to lock her eyes with her love’s beautiful lilac ones. “I’m sorry I pushed you away. I’m sorry I kept you out of the loop, like you insisted I stop doing. I’m sorry I broke so many promises during that time-”

“You were grieving,” Yang stopped her again, her voice firmer than before. “I’m sorry too, you know.”

“About what?” She couldn’t help the startled bark of laughter escaping her lips, not knowing why Yang would ever feel the need to apologise. She never did anything wrong, certainly not during that dark time.

“I’m sorry I didn’t have a proper conversation with you, after what happened,” Yang looked so wistful for a moment, a crinkle forming between her brows indicating that it had been on her mind and haunted her for years, now. “I could see you were hurting, I could see you blamed yourself, and I… I didn’t stop you from thinking that. I was hurting too.”

“Of course I blamed myself!” She couldn’t help but raise her voice, pulling Yang’s hand away from her face. “You were so disappointed of me! I _failed_ you!”

“What?” Jerking her hand away as if she’d been burned, Yang stared at her with wide, horrified eyes, slowly filling with tears. “You never failed me, Weiss! Never!”

“Of course I did! I miscarried! I was carrying _your_ child, and I _lost it_! You blamed me, and I hated myself!”

A deafening silence hung heavily in the air above their heads, held up by thin threads that could snap any second now and crush them both with it, but they stared at each other, and she could see the whirlwind of emotions passing in Yang’s eyes, on Yang’s face, shifting from pain and anger to regret and sorrow and finally settled to sadness, but now, it seemed it rested a lot more heavier than earlier as Yang, slowly, pulled her chair right in front of her.

When Yang let out a slow, steadying breath, her features looked so grave and somber, and her eyes were filled with such softness and understanding and forgiveness that she couldn’t help but look away, her heart seizing up again.

“Look at me,” Yang’s gentle voice said, but she refused to listen to it, swallowing thickly.

Never again she wanted to see the look of endless disappointment in Yang’s eyes after she was cleared from the hospital, when they both realised the child they had been hoping for was lost.

“Weiss,” Yang called her again, and a soft touch to her knee drew her eyes there, seeing the prosthetic lightly touching her. “Look at me.”

Still refusing to look up, Yang lightly touched both her knees, the thumbs drawings gentle, soothing circles, and she realised now how close they were, the blonde’s body heat carrying the small distance easily to her. Finally, after a little nudge again, she looked up and locked eyes with Yang.

After offering a small, sad smile, Yang squeezed her knees lightly, before resuming the soothing touch from earlier.

“I _never_ blamed you,” at those words, spoken so softly it was strange how they hurt her still, she looked away again, but this time one of Yang’s hands left her knee and lightly touched her chin, bringing her eyes back. “You did everything right, Weiss. You stopped working as soon as you knew you were pregnant, to make sure the stress wouldn’t affect the baby. You changed your diet completely. You read all the books, you took the vitamins, you searched and found every tidbits of information about pregnancy and you did everything _perfectly_.”

A sigh acted as a pause in Yang’s speech as her lilac eyes were still locked with hers, and the ghost of a smile touched her lips, fleeting.

“If anything, you made _me_ feel entirely unprepared,” Yang chuckled with the tiniest bit of humor, before returning to this calm, serious demeanor that she had seen only a handful of time before. “But sometimes, despite how prepared you are… it just happens. And it’s nobody’s fault.”

She knew it had been something that had been weighing on her mind heavily for years, but at that moment, to hear Yang say it so plainly without any detour, it felt like the great weight that had been crushing her all those years lifted from her shoulders, and she felt so light that it made her head spin. The guilt that gnawed at her relented, at least for the moment, and the shame too, and she felt so free, so light, that she feared she might be blown away by the faintest breeze.

The next breath she took, she did without anything pressing on her lungs, without pain in her chest, and it felt like it had been so long since she breathed so freely that she felt light-headed, swaying in her chair and the room spinning around ever so slightly.

“All this time…” in a soft murmur as her left hand cupped her cheek, Yang brought her attention back and settled her back in her chair, grounding her. “You really thought I blamed you?”

She gave the tiniest nod and it made Yang close her eyes before pressing her forehead against hers, and she closed her eyes too when she felt Yang’s thumb softly running over her cheek, her fingers scratching gently wherever they touched.

“Gods, I’m… I’m so sorry, Weiss…”

Accepting the apology as another wave of relief washed over her, she reached over, clutching at Yang’s shirt, and somehow, it made Yang chuckle humorlessly, sounding short and tight.

“If you thought that, added with all the things that happened in the news… No wonder you left,” Yang murmured in her ear, and she could hear the tremble in it, could guess the tears clouding the blonde’s vision. “But if Dad hadn’t been such an idiot with your letters… things would definitely be different, Weiss. I… I really wanted you there.”

“Me too,” she couldn’t help but murmur, leaning over to press her face against Yang’s strong shoulder. “But when you never answered my letters, I… I didn’t know if I would ever come back to you. I thought you hated me.”

“You kept writing to me, though,” Yang reminded her lightly, the hand on her cheek sliding to cup the back of her head tenderly.

“I… I didn’t want you to think I gave up on you… I would have written to you until you clearly gave me a sign that I could come home, or… or until you told me to stop writing you.”

“And yet here you are,” Yang pulled away with a soft smile, her lilac eyes so beautiful and soft and tender.

Still, she shook her head, hesitating just a second before reaching over and lightly tucking a stray blonde lock back behind Yang’s ear.

“No, meeting Blake was only a chance encounter, I came here because-”

All the blissful joy she had felt to finally be reunited with the love of her life and her best friend was snuffed out instantly as she remembered why, exactly, she had wandered in this rundown town in the first place, and in its stead, nameless horror and terror took its place as she felt her eyes almost bulging out of her head in panic.

“You have to move,” she blurted out, jumping to her feet in a hurry as Yang blinked in surprise. “Immediately.”

“W-what?”

“You have to move,” she repeated, quickly going to the door and grabbed her weapon from where it rested, in the corner behind the front door and secured it at her belt. “I was tracking a Megoliath all the way here. It’s big enough to raze this town completely, and it won’t be the first time it happens. Get your things, tell as much people as you can. I’m going to find it and plan its next-”

“I’ll go with you!” Blake was by her side instantly, her dark brows furrowed as Yang slowly rose from her chair, the imminent danger settling in now.

“When was the last time you used Gambol Shroud?” She asked tightly, only to see Blake’s golden eyes slip away tellingly a second later, the resolve in them faltering. “Exactly. Help Yang. Make sure people leave.”

Quickly checking how many rounds she had in her pouch as she opened the door to leave, she was interrupted before she could step outside as a hand gripped her arm, squeezing tightly.

When she looked up, time itself stopped as Yang looked terrified, her eyes wide and afraid, and the hand tightening on her arm wasn’t about to let her slip away again, even less into harms way. But now, contrary to all those years ago, she had more than one reason to come back as soon as she could.

“Yang,” she let out softly, and the tight grip on her arm loosened just slightly. “I promise, I will come back.”

When Yang’s hold didn’t relent, she pressed a hand over Yang’s, and squeezed gently, locking her eyes with the love of her life, finding strength and serenity in them. She was on a mission, now, and nothing would hold her back from Yang.

“I have to introduce myself properly to our daughter,” she let out with a small smile, glancing at Blake for a second before returning her attention on Yang. “I have to say, I must have made a terrible first impression on her.”

Taking in a long, deep breath in, Yang finally nodded, her hand slowly releasing its tight hold, and before it was gone completely she caught it, and slowly, wary of any sign of discomfort, brought it to her lips to press a lone, soft kiss against the scarred knuckles she had missed and loved.

“Be swift,” she murmured against Yang’s skin, squeezing her fingers gently. “It might happen much faster than I am anticipating it.”

After Yang gave a firm nod, she squeezed her fingers again before letting go, and ran out the door.

Using a glyph under her feet, she zipped away, and soon found herself out of the rundown town, shortly wondering why Yang chose a place like this to raise a child. They had a perfectly good house in a nice neighborhood before, but… She guessed it hurt Yang too much to stay there without her.

She found the days old tracks in no time, and it was much closer to the town than she had initially thought, but the tracks lead away as she could see the fallen trees and the mess of broken branches when the Megoliath rammed through the patch of forest bordering the town.

Maybe the town would be safe, at least from the Megoliath, she though without feeling any better.

Just to make sure, she followed the tracks on foot, her hand closed tightly on Myrtenaster’s hilt, and warily entered the forest the Megoliath rammed through.

The forest was eerily quiet for one as dense as it was, she couldn’t help but think, glancing around. Where were the birds? The animals? She wasn’t making much noise, entirely not enough to stop the life of this forest.

Yes, they had been scared of the Grimm, but if it passed through surely they would be back by now. An anxious ball formed in the pit of her stomach, one that only grew when the small hairs at her nape stood on end, all her senses blaring red-hot alarms at the same time.

Swiftly turning on her heels, she half expected to find a culprit behind her but… Nothing. The forest was as empty as it had been, and just as silent, too. Even the breeze seemed to have left this part of the forest.

Dread weighed heavily in the pit of her stomach as she felt beads of sweat forming at her temples, slowly drawing Myrtenaster out and keeping close attention to her surrounding as she tried to ignore how it felt familiar.

She remembered during the Great War, towards the end when it was simply hell on Remnant, a similar occurrence, where the life seemed to have left a healthy forest like this…

She remembered she had argued with Ruby about pressing on, and how her partner had been so adamant about turning back to find backup. Her only excuse had been she had a bad feeling about this. It turned out hours later, after they _did_ turn back and went for help, Ruby had been right.

Stopping in her tracks as she sent another long, scrutinising look towards the trees, she found it strange that, despite being the middle of the day, it was so dark here. And then she saw it.

A pair of glowing, blood-red eyes, staring straight at her. Swallowing thickly as she readied her weapon, she was about to send a handful of sharp ice shard until she noticed another pair of eyes, a couple of tree trunks away. When a full-body shiver shook her, all of her senses blaring red-hot alarms again and even the hair on her _arms_ stood on end, she knew she had to get out of here. She was probably already surrounded as it was.

She should have known better. The intense panic from last night and the pain she had felt this morning must still linger about her, drawing the Grimm in like a delicious, too-good-to-turn-down bait, and here she was, standing all alone in this forest. Plus, if Yang and Blake were doing what she asked, the panic and anxiety of the townsfolks would stir the Grimm towards the town too.

Maybe not the mass of Grimm that had been thrown to them before Salem fell, but… surely a handful of big, old Grimm, more dangerous than the mindless mob of Salem’s reign.

So without turning her back to the two pair of eyes she could see and hoping there was only two of them, two being moderately manageable for her alone, she slowly backed away, preferring to return to the wide and empty expanse of the plains hugging this forest if she was to fight.

As she moved, it seemed as though the breeze came back to the trees, the forest breathing for the first time since she entered it, and in it, subtle, she was sure she heard the quietest growl, and this time, her guts churned, screaming at her to run.

She didn’t have Ruby anymore, but she had learned a lot when they went hunting alone together, and before she never gave voice to the warning her body would give. Instead, Ruby voiced them for her, and her partner had been, almost all the time, right to be concerned.

Now, though? Her instincts were the primary reason she was still alive. So without dallying anymore, she summoned a glyph under her feet and zipped as fast as she could out of the forest, just as two big, old Sabyr pounced in synch to where she had stood just a second ago.

It wasn’t the Megoliath, not yet, but Sabyrs were a handful to deal with in the first place, with their speed and agility. Two of them working in pair will be… difficult. She bit back a curse, focusing on getting out of the trees as the two agile Grimm ran after her, easily keeping the pace.

She emerged from the treeline like a rocket, and with the momentum of her speed, she jumped from her glyph as it stayed right outside of the trees, and a wink later the Sabyrs were jumping over it. In mid-air, she swiftly twisted her wrist, and the glyph went from stark white to midnight black and propelled both Grimm in the air, visibly startling them.

As her feet touched the ground with the force of a train, she snapped her fingers as she pointed Myrtenaster towards the two Sabyr in the air, and instantly, a flurry of shards of ice rocketed to them, just before she tumbled over from the momentum she had.

Rolling around a couple of times until she was able to get back on her feet, she was silently glad she hadn’t impaled herself on her own weapon in her tumble but quickly returned to the fight ahead as she saw the two Grimm had dropped down on the ground, dizzy for a moment but apparently unharmed from her surprise attack.

The white, thick bone-plating running from nape to tail might be the reason it came out unscathed, as the white mask reached well over the Grimm’s head, leaving barely an inch of unprotected neck. Ditto for the belly. The only place not covered with armor was the Grimm’s sides, and they were corded with thick muscles. She didn’t have a blade big enough to really land an attack that would slow it down.

So she had to outsmart the smart Grimm, she couldn’t help but think bitterly. Sometimes she missed the mob.

She had the start of a plan, half-baked at best, but didn’t expect for the Sabyr to react so fast. One of them crossed the distance in a flash, snarling menacingly and ravenously chomped at her, so quick that she barely had the time to jump out of the way, the razor-sharp teeth closing on a corner of her combat skirt and ripped it clean.

In the same heartbeat, the other came from the other side, fast and dangerous, snarling like a rabid, famished animal, and tried the same. As she kept backing away, a lot less confident as she usually was when fighting Grimm, she raised large, sharp spikes of ice that burst from the ground one after the other, barely slowing the two feral Grimm.

She had fought Sabyrs before. She knew they could be fast and persistent. But it was never like this, never in her life had she fought Grimm so ferocious before, and she was starting to not only be scared, but terrified as well.

She had just met Yang again… Was this how she was going to die?

Another clawed paw sailed far too close to home to her liking, the swift jump back she had the time to take managing to make the Sabyr miss, but not entirely, as the claws brushed against her, her Aura flickering to protect her. Noticing a dark mass moving in the corner of her eye, she barely had the time to lunge to the side, the other Grimm narrowly missing her again but still managed to tear the end of her skirt.

This was too much too quickly, she couldn’t help but think as she didn’t even have the time to fight back. Right now, she was surviving by some miracle, but she knew it wouldn’t take long if this went on. She had to at least get rid of one of them for a moment if she wanted to have a chance of surviving this.

Rolling around to escape another pounce, her breath caught in her throat and her blood roaring in her ears, she pushed to her feet, quickly summoning a glyph in front of her with the intention of creating distance between them, but just as she was about to jump on it, one of the Sabyrs slammed it with enough force to break it. When it turned to her, snarling, she raised a hand and a black glyph propelled the Grimm away, but it was quick to sink its long, sharp claws in the dirt, stopping mere paces away.

Another full-body shiver warned her, and she let herself fall flat on the ground as the other Sabyr sailed harmlessly over her, but landed on its feet almost instantly. Without wasting any seconds, she got to her feet and ran as fast as she could away from them, glyphs appearing one after the other like stairs for her to climb in the sky and hope to find a moment to breathe.

She had managed to climb a bit, thinking it would give her the time to form another plan, but she should have known better. Those two were relentless, rabid, and worked far too well together for creatures that were supposed to live alone.

One of the Grimm jumped in the air, and the other followed; of course, it wasn’t high enough to reach her, but the second jumped _on_ the first Sabyr, and sailed right at her, claws and fangs out. Maybe it was the last second of her life, but she wouldn’t spend it cowering in front of mere Grimm. She fought in the Great War. She stood in front of the witch Salem, and lived to tell the tale.

So, with a yell, she tightened her grasp on Myrtenaster and thrusted her weapon in front of her, feeling resistance as it met the flesh of the Grimm just as it rammed into her, her thoughts flying from her as a flash of lilac eyes and beaming smile danced in front of her eyes.

It could have chopped her arm right then and there, but it didn’t. She didn’t have enough Aura to prevent it, for sure, but it didn’t. The sharp teeth sank in her shoulder, it brought pain and she felt warm blood spilling out of the wound, but it could have ended the fight at this moment, and it didn’t.

She landed on her back with a strangled, pained groan as all the air in her lungs was expulsed, the mass of the Grimm landing on top of her not a second later, and she was sure she would die like this, crushed under the great weight of one of the oldest and ferocious Sabyr she had ever seen. But she didn’t.

No, instead she realised the weight was slowly being removed, and she opened her eyes blearily to the sight of Myrtenaster’s blade, bursting out of the back of the Grimm’s head as her arm was well into the Sabyr’s mouth.

She huffed bitterly, wondering if she could even get up at this point.

“That’s one,” she rasped out, blowing a stray lock from her face. “Now for the other…”

Trying as best she could to at the very least sit up as the body of the Grimm was dissolving in a very soothing dark cloud, she groaned when something in her back cracked, a flash of pain reminding her that she shouldn’t be moving. At that moment, she saw the other Sabyr, who had been projected towards the ground and was only now returning to its feet as it stumbled dizzily, and it turned its glowing red eyes on her.

As she stared as the Grimm marched to her, head lowered like a cat about to pounce, _something_ passed right in front of the white mask of the Grimm, close enough and sharp enough to leave scratch marks on the bone of it. It instantly caught the Grimm’s attention as it looked up, snarling menacingly, and she swiftly brought two fingers of her right hand up, the Dust in Myrtenaster’s barrel working still.

Sharp ice spikes burst from the ground and would have taken advantage of the now exposed, unprotected neck of the Grimm as it looked up, but the Sabyr was quick and agile. It somehow sensed the attack coming, and reared back on its hind legs, the shards narrowly missing their marks, and with one powerful paw it shattered them in one move.

It returned its attention on her, seemingly forgetting the thing that had disturbed it mere seconds ago.

In marched closer again, and with pain flaring in her back, she painfully climbed to her feet, panting and holding her injured left shoulder, wincing, and taking a single step back, it very nearly made her knees buckle from under her. Her Aura was gone, unable to at least alleviate the pain spreading in her back.

And like a cat that knew it had trapped the mouse, the Sabyr knew she was helpless, and it was in no rush to end her suffering. Still, once again, the same flash of white zoomed in front of the Grimm again, this time coming from the left, and it slowed a bit instead of simply zipping away again.

Feeling her eyes widening, she recognised the white feathers of the snowy owl that was presently scratching its talons on the boney mask, until it found purchase in one tall ear. The Grimm growled and roared, trying to swat the bird away, but the owl was too quick and was already flying away, letting out a high-pitched chirp.

While the Sabyr snarled up at the owl, a large mass of furs jumped fearlessly on the Sabyr’s back and firmly grabbed the divots for the eyes in the Grimm’s bone-mask and pulled, and planted the long, strong blades in the back of their boots deep in the Grimm’s sides, holding it in place with a loud shout.

“ _Weiss_!”

It had been awhile since she heard his voice, but Kiba had always said her name with this strange accent, and with the owl… But she didn’t have the time for these questions as she thanked whatever stars she still had for the opening Kiba was making for her, and even if she crumple as soon as she did, ran over and planted her rapier deep in the Grimm’s exposed neck, stopping its mad dance to get rid of the man on its back.

As the Sabyr dissolved slowly, she laid there, staring up at the bright blue sky over her, wondering why she had never realised how close it looked. Reaching with her right arm, she was sure she could touch this deep, endless blue if she wished it enough, but instead, something warm wrapped around it, and she found Kiba’s dark brown eyes staring down at her with concern, his fingers gently curling around hers. She had never realised they were so dark they almost looked black.

“Find Yang,” she had barely the time to whisper, and she felt the man squeeze her hand before he gave one, firm nod of his head. “Find… Yang…”

Then she let herself be submerged by the darkness.

****

When she woke up, it was in a world of pain, but at least she was warm, she distantly noted, hearing the gentle crackling of a fire nearby and distant conversations around her. For a moment, she stayed still, willing to believe that the people she could hear were safe, at least for now.

“Mommy, why did we have to leave?”

The small, crystalline voice of the little girl she had met the night before pushed her to snap her eyes open, and she went as far as to push on her right arm to prop herself on her elbow to look over towards the voice, and she had to twist a bit to see them clearly. It made a sharp, poignant stab of pain pierce through her, and she couldn’t bite back the yelp of pain she let out, falling back on her bedroll.

Instantly, a pair of hands settled her, and the soft, low voice of Kiba murmured in his native language, probably something soothing that she couldn’t understand even to this day.

“Don’t move,” Blake’s voice flitted to her ears, and she gritted her teeth, squeezing her eyes shut, hoping the pain would subdue soon. “Your back took a vary nasty hit.”

“Thanks, Blake, I didn’t know,” she let out in a hiss, her voice heavy with sarcasm before sucking a deep breath in through her nose. “I just wanted to make sure you were safe.”

Distantly, she could hear Yang’s voice, talking calmly and reassuringly, and her attention was brought back when a hand brushed her bangs back from her face, gentle.

“You took a beating out there,” Blake continued as if she hadn’t said anything, her voice soft but with clear concern in it. “What happened?”

“Two rabid Sabyrs,” was the only explanation Blake would get for the night.

“I see…”

“Did you gather everyone?” She pressed, keeping her eyes closed. “Is anyone left in town?”

“No, everyone’s here,” Blake answered, and the rustling indicated that the faunus was looking around. “They all know we’re Huntresses. When we say there’s a Megoliath near here, they know what we’re talking about.”

“Good,” she couldn’t help the sigh of relief, feeling her shoulders relaxing greatly. “That’s very good.”

“Though it’s your friend here that is intriguing me,” the faunus continued and she could hear the smile in her voice. “He seems to know you very well.”

“Kiba?”

Instantly, the warm hand of the healer wrapped around hers, and she smiled gratefully.

“He’s an old friend.”

It made the man chuckle warmly as he squeezed her hand affectionately. Slowly, she fluttered her eyes open, and turned to the sound of his voice.

Sitting right beside her on her left, Blake and Kiba stood watch over her, and while Blake didn’t change much in the short time she had seen her from earlier that day, Kiba had change greatly from the time she had lived in his home. His hair was longer, though he held it at the base of his neck, only a few strands slipping out, a large scar ran from his right cheekbone and went down in a smooth line to the corner of his jaw. His upper lip was darkened by the small duvet that was desperately trying to grow, although she never remembered seeing him shaving before.

Furrowing her brows, she winced as she raised her left hand up, and with trembling fingers brushed them against his cheek, just under the scar.

“What happened?” She asked, dread darkening her thoughts. “Why are you here?”

Locking his eyes with her for a moment as his features grew somber, he finally sighed, lowering his eyes, before releasing her hand delicately and searching in the pouch he carried at his belt. He pulled out what looked like a torn flag or something akin to it, and something else that he hesitantly closed his hand around. Then, he showed her the fabric, and Blake leaned over to see it too, wondering what it was.

It was black and red, dark, dirtied by blood and soot and scorched in some places, but the faded sigil didn’t ring any bell to her.

“Bandits,” a voice sounded, serious, and they turned to Yang who had inched closer to the conversation, Ivory glued to her side. “Not much in the area, though.”

“They fear old evil,” Kiba slowly drawled out, his words clipped as his dark eyes lowered to the torn banner. “But you kill old evil. They came.”

Then, after a second of hesitation, Kiba slowly, reverently sat what looked like a pile of small bones on her lap, and after working to sit up even though Blake _and_ Yang insisted she didn’t, she had recognised the ambers amidst the bones and her heart sank in her chest when she pulled on the familiar necklace, recognising it instantly when she saw the trapped bug in one of the ambers. She realised it was a small dragonfly, now that she could look at it closely.

“Kiba…” She murmured, turning to the man who didn’t look up at her, instead his features softened into infinite sadness. “Your mother… I’m so sorry…”

He merely nodded, grimacing a little, and she wiggled in her seat, ignoring the pain for a moment to wrap her good arm around his neck, hoping it would bring him small comfort, and it did. He gently responded to the gesture, very lightly embracing her, before just as carefully help her back on her bedroll, and with just that, she was wheezing and covered in sweat.

She was a bit surprised that Yang stopped Kiba from reaching to the warm cloth she had distantly felt while she was passed out, instead taking it herself and turned to her. After gently running the warm, damp cloth over her face, their eyes met, and she smiled, tentatively. Her heart fluttered in her chest when Yang returned it, and she would have been willing to fall back asleep at that moment… if not for Kiba to suddenly be right in her face, his brows furrowed deeply.

Before she could protest and barely after her startled yelp, his dark eyes glanced from her to Yang, back and forth a couple times as he hummed loudly for a moment.

“Your eyes soft when you look,” he said, pointing from her to Yang meaningfully. “The letters. For her?”

“Why do you suddenly talk so much in the tongue of the great walls?” She couldn’t help but wonder in a yelp, feeling her cheeks warm even though she found it ridiculous. She had been with Yang for years, why was she suddenly nervous and shy about it? “And yes. The letters were for her.”

Humming again, his eyes sparkled, filled with mirth and joy as he straightened his back happily.

“Is she your…”

His features crumpled in thoughts as he seemed to search for the missing word, repeating it over and over in his native tongue, before giving up with a shrug and briefly patted his own chest, dipping his head to her meaningfully.

“Your… chest?” Blake tried, arching a single, doubtful brow.

Shaking his head, he instead reached down at her, and lightly tapped on her chest, over her heart, and she understood.

“No,” she said to Blake, before nodding to Kiba with a smile. “Yes. Yang is my heart. My love.”

“Ooohhh!” The healer happily grinned, seemingly genuinely happy for her as he turned to Yang, before giving her a hearty wave of his hand, as if meeting her for the first time again.

Rolling her eyes as Yang returned the wave with a chuckle, she glanced around them, searching for Kiba’s bird only to realise they were in some impromptu camp, multiple campfires dotting the long road they had stopped near of, and ultimately didn’t find her target as it was much too dark above her to see clearly in the trees.

“How is Qilak?” She asked instead, turning to Kiba curiously, hoping his bird didn’t get injured in the earlier fight.

With a wide smile, the healer let out a shrill whistle, holding his padded arm out, and seconds after the white owl soundlessly perked on his arm, and she loved the way Ivory, who was pressed against Yang’s side, widened her eyes and the way her mouth fell open, entirely impressed by what she saw.

Still, the bird peeped happily, and she smiled, rising slowly her left arm to gently scratch Qilak’s chest, making the wide, yellow eyes close in bliss.

“You little rascal,” she lightly chastised it, but with a gentle smile on her lips. “You could have gotten hurt in the fight!”

“Look who’s talking,” Blake merely snickered on the side, but she ignored her.

Then, gently lifting Kiba’s arm to incite the bird to fly away, she grabbed Kiba’s collar as soon as it did, then hardly pulled him down, anger sparking to life in the pit of her stomach.

“And _you_!” She would have laughed at the way he tried to hide his head between his shoulders like an overgrown child, but the memory of him foolishly jumping on the back of a Grimm spurred her fury on. “What were you _thinking_? You don’t have a Semblance, not even an Aura, you… You! It could have killed you!”

Her hand trembled from how tightly she was holding his collar, and her small outburst was enough to make her pant and feel exhausted, but he met her eyes readily, his silence speaking a lot louder than anything he could say. So, feeling the anger in the pit of her stomach being snuffed out as quickly as it came, she pulled again on his collar, but this time she was tired. She hoped he would understand.

“I… I lost enough friends as it is,” she murmured, and he gently wrapped his hand around her trembling fist. “Don’t scare me like that again.”

He smiled sadly, squeezing her hand gently.

“I lost friends too,” he reminded her quietly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realised it was going to be three parts and not just two! Hang in there, and see you next chapter! :D  
> And as always, thank you for reading <3


	3. Chapter 3

When she woke up again, dawn was breaking, and she felt a whole lot better, her Aura no doubt healing all the damage, but she was still glad for Kiba’s help. She was sure it would help her Aura in the long run.

Grunting as she slowly sat on her bedroll, she could still feel an ache in her back, and a slight twinge on her left shoulder, but she felt leagues better than earlier. She probably could travel today, if she kept her arm in a sling maybe.

“Hi,” a timid, small voice caught her attention.

Jumping in surprise as she thought she was the only one awake, she looked over her shoulder, noticing Blake, Kiba and Yang still sleeping soundly around their small campfire, the remnant embers still hot enough to warm the air around them. Ivory, though, was curled up beside Yang, her feet still hidden under the blanket, but her lilac eyes that were so similar to Yang’s stared at her, cautious.

“Hi,” she said back, a flicker of panic making her guts twist. But then, she remembered it was barely dawn, and frown slightly. “What are you doing up? It’s still really early. You should rest a bit more.”

But the girl was already shaking her head, shrugging just a bit.

“I usually wake up around this time for school,” Ivory quietly explained.

“Why? It’s awfully early.”

When Ivory wordlessly pointed at her own hair, she merely nodded in understanding, her attention going back to Yang’s sleeping form. Of course, Yang took such great care of her hair, it wasn’t surprising for Ivory to do the same.

But as she watched over Yang, she saw the slight shiver shaking the girl’s form, and her attention snapped back at her, once again looking her over. She looked slightly cold, even though she couldn’t imagine how it was possible while being in Yang’s vicinity. But even if Ivory was cold, she didn’t seem willing to return under the blanket with Yang.

So she turned her eyes to the warm embers of their campfire.

“Would you… like to come closer?” She offered to Ivory, hesitantly. “I could start it again, if you’re cold.”

Hesitating for only a second, Ivory nodded, and the girl made sure to neatly tuck the blanket around Yang before leaving her side, and she couldn’t help but smile, remembering all the times she did the same on mornings she had to come in to work. But she shook her head, climbing to her feet with a grunt again and stepped away from their makeshift camp in search of dry wood.

As she walked, she rested her right hand on her left shoulder and tried stretching her left arm, wincing again when the twinge came, and she simply rubbed over the bandages lightly, sighing. She could feel the ones around her chest as she took in a deep breath, straining in the tightness of Kiba’s masterful work.

She came back not long after, her search fruitful with an armful of wood, and she had half a mind to simply drop it near the fire, but doing so was surely going to wake everyone. Instead, she held her load with her left arm, and as best she could and helped with her right arm, she tried to slowly, carefully sit, hoping to spare her back a little.

But her arm was still sore and weak, and it buckled under her, and she very lamely fell on her back with her load of wood tumbling down her face as she tried to hold back the pained yelp she wanted to let out. With her eyelids screwed shut, she took deep breaths after deep breaths, not moving an inch until the pain radiating from her back subsided.

But the dry wood was soon plucked from her face, and she felt careful hands trying as best they could to brush the detritus from her skin and hair, then very lightly brushed them off the bandages on her shoulder.

“Are you okay?” Ivory asked in a whisper, but the worry was clear in her voice.

Instead of answering, she merely raised a trembling thumb up, one that made the girl huff quietly.

“Mommy told me you did this all the time.”

Slowly opening her eyes at that, she took in another deep breath, before looking down at Ivory who was silently piling the wood beside the fire, some of them already in the embers and timid flames licking them already.

“Did she talk about me often?” She couldn’t help but ask, closing her eyes again.

A short silence answered her as she could hear the girl finished piling the wood, then was blowing a bit on the embers, and a lone, satisfying crack sounded from the fire, making Ivory cheer silently at her success.

“Sometimes,” Ivory finally continued, and she opened her eyes to look at her, curled up on her bedroll like it was her own, but her lilac eyes were on the small flames, tired and sad. “But she was sad, after. It made her cry, talking about you.”

Finally sitting back up, she moved to get back on her bedroll but still kept considerable distance between her and Ivory, so incredibly aware that she was not Ivory’s mother, but nothing more than a distant stranger that apparently was her mother. How she wished she knew what to say to make it all better.

“I see…”

“But auntie Blake talked a lot about you,” the girl continued, and a discreet smile pulled her lips, as if she had been happy to learn more about her mysterious, absent mother, after all. “It sounded like you two were really good friends.”

“Best friends, actually,” a sleepy voice corrected, followed by a yawn.

They turned in synch to the new voice just as Blake stretched languidly out of her bedroll, groaning all the while, and it made her roll her eyes with a snort, shaking her head.

“I nearly broke my back, and _now_ you wake up?”

Blake pulled her tongue at her for only response, and it made Ivory chuckle beside her as the faunus emerged from under the blanket and quickly joined them, sitting neatly between them, and instantly Ivory snuggled Blake’s side, so entirely at ease with Blake it made her heart ache.

How she wished she hadn’t left…

“I see you got acquainted?” Blake yawned again, not even bothering covering her mouth and earning a glare from her, which Blake casually ignore.

Still, her eyes darted down, and she met Ivory’s lilac eyes staring back at her.

“I… I guess we did,” was the only thing she let out, before returning her attention on the fire.

A silence settled over them as she wondered what her future looked like, now that she had found out she had a child. Would it be hypocritical of her to want to stay? Would she need to leave? What about all the other Grimm still roaming the world? Will she go after them and _then_ come back home?

Although, after the day before, she wasn’t sure she would come back from such a journey, which only made her heart sink and her guts churn.

She was lost in the gentle flames, wondering if Ruby was hating her for leaving her sister. The thought was unbearable.

“So… Are you going to stay with us?”

The question came from Ivory and it visibly surprised both Blake and her as they both turned to the girl, who kept her attention to the fire with a neutral mask she knew all too well. Besides, she didn’t know the girl, so she couldn’t even try to guess what she was thinking, if the question was born in genuine joy or if she was dreading it as much as she dreaded answering the question.

“I’m… I’d like to,” she softly let out, lowering her eyes to the ground in front of her as she felt the soft touch to her elbow from Blake, visibly happy with the answer. “If your mother wants me to. And if _you_ want me to.”

“Will I have to call you ‘mom’ too?” Ivory asked again, after a lengthy pause.

She had, somehow, expected the question to come up eventually, and she couldn’t believe how prepared she was for it. So, after taking a deep, steadying breath in, she turned towards Blake and Ivory to face the girl before crossing her fingers together, to keep them from visibly shaking.

“You don’t have to call me anything you don’t want to,” she shook her head gently, but kept her eyes locked with Ivory’s lilac ones, ignoring Blake for the moment. “Right now, we’re strangers. You don’t know me, and I don’t know you. Although, I would love to get to know you, but only if you want to, and I would love for you to get to know me, but again, only if you want to. I want you to be comfortable, if we are going to do this. So, as we are strangers…” She straightened her back slowly, minding her injury, before extending a hand to the girl, visibly surprising her. “You can call me Weiss.”

It took a moment before the lilac eyes dropped to the offered hand, but she held on, even if she couldn’t even imagine how devastated she would be if Ivory would reject her offer. But, after a long, agonising moment, the girl sat up straighter, and was about to take her hand before hesitating, glancing up at her again.

“But… What if Mommy is sad that I call you by your name?”

She only smiled, keeping her hand right where it was as her heart pounded in her chest.

“Your mother’s feelings are irrelevant on that matter. This is between you, and me. You can call me however you want, as long as you are comfortable with it.”

A thoughtful expression contorted the girl’s soft features, but soon she nodded slightly, and with her heart leaping out of her chest, the girl firmly grabbed her hand and shook it, determined.

“You can call me Ivory.”

“Aw… What about my cool nickname for you?” Blake pouted at the girl, her feline ears lowering dramatically on top of her head.

“You’re the only one who calls me ‘shrimp’,” Ivory answered without missing a beat as she settled back against Blake’s side.

“Shrimp?” She asked curiously, turning to her friend with big, pleading eyes, ready to listen to whatever tidbit of information concerning Ivory.

“Oh, it was back when Yang was pregnant,” the faunus smiled warmly, affectionately threading her fingers through pale blonde hair with the ease of someone who did this daily. “She told me the baby was about as big as a shrimp, at the time. It stayed,” Blake shrugged casually.

A bit disappointed by the short story but still glad for it, she hummed with a nod, before returning her attention on the fire, wondering if one day… maybe one day she will know everything about Ivory. Maybe she will be the one to know things about the girl. She hoped so.

****

“What’s that?” Ivory asked, earning everyone’s attention.

Blake and Yang were packing their small camp while she was sitting on her still made bed, grimacing as Kiba changed the bandages of her shoulder to determined if she needed a sling or not, and Ivory was kneeling beside one of her pouches, where she kept the few belongings she had decided to bring with her, years ago. At present, the girl was turning the white bear Kiba had carved, years ago, and although some parts were smoother than before because she toyed with it more than she cared to admit, it was still easily recognisable.

“You went through my things?” She asked with mild surprise, not upset at all. The girl didn’t seem like the kind to snoop around.

Widening her lilac eyes with a horrified expression, Ivory snapped her head up at her, as if expecting she was going to yell at her as she was, very clumsily she had to say, returning the bear to the pouch.

“I’m sorry, I was searching for the bandages but I found this-”

“It’s really alright, Ivory,” she raised a calm hand, stopping the frantic girl. “You’re looking through the wrong one. Try this one over there,” she pointed at one of Kiba’s pouches, not far from them. “But give it here, it’s been a while since I held it.”

Obediently, Ivory clambered over on all four and gave back the bear, sitting in front of her as she overlooked the thing, running her thumb on the part it had smoothed over, exactly because she was doing this every time. She could see Kiba’s large smile in the corner of her eye as he finished with her bandages, but she furrowed her brows, her heart heavy as she grew melancholic, as usual when she tried to grasp the meaning behind the carving.

“I keep wondering, why a bear?” She asked to the healer, wondering if he would tell her as she looked up at him. “I’ve spent so many nights wondering, out of all the others there surely is, you chose this one.”

“I don’t choose,” Kiba retorted, shaking his head as he finished fixing the bandages on her shoulder before patting it lightly. “You are bear.”

“But it doesn’t make sense!” She tried to argue, only to realise it was going to be fruitless when the healer leveled a very not impressed stare at her. “I left!”

Still staring at her for a moment more to make sure she understood just how unimpressed he was with her argument, Kiba then reached over, grasping the bright red edge of what remained of Ruby’s cloak, that she had always sowed back with such care whenever it was ripped off. He met her eyes, shaking the bright red fabric as if it was supposed to mean something. Then, he pointed to Yang, to Blake and finally, after a second of hesitation, to Ivory.

When he looked at her again, Kiba’s severe expression softened greatly when, in the same vein, she wordlessly pointed to him, and he smiled with a nod, glad that she understood what he meant.

“But everyone has loved ones,” she still argued softly, shaking the bear for him to see. “It doesn’t make sense.”

He narrowed his eyes as his smile vanished instantly, and he lightly slapped the back of her head.

“What is it?” This time Yang asked, her eyes down on the bear in her hand, and with a sigh, she gave it to her so she could look the thing over.

“It’s a warrior’s totem that Kiba made for me,” she told them, narrowing her eyes at Kiba, who proudly raised his chin.

“Really?” Blake sounded surprised and even impressed, looking the thing over too. “What does bear mean? Strength? Resilience?”

Staying stubbornly silent as she unhappily pouted, she crossed her arms over her chest, not at all in the mood to be the laughing stock because of her ridiculous totem that didn’t make sense. Clearly, Kiba had talked to someone else during that time, because she sure as hell didn’t ‘represent’ whatever bear meant.

“I wish,” was the only thing she grumbled, turning away.

When she obviously wasn’t about to answer their questions, the three eager pair of eyes turned to Kiba, who apparently was waiting for this moment as he settled a warm hand on her bandaged shoulder, delicately.

“Bear is really powerful totem,” Kiba started, and despite the crude accent and sometime how jerky the words tumbled out of his mouth, he looked glad he could talk to them like this. “Strong warriors have bear totem.” Then, he looked down at her with a warm, affectionate smile as she was still pouting away, not deigning him the slightest glance. “Bear is totem of love.”

“Love?” It was Ivory that voiced the surprise, and she felt herself deflate even more at it.

Still, the healer nodded eagerly, and the hand on her shoulder moved to gently pat her on the head, which made her eye twitch.

“Weiss has big heart. Very very big. Weiss is strong, because she has big heart.”

“Everyone has loved ones!” She barked back as she dryly swatted his hand aside.

“He’s right, though.”

Surprised, she turned to Yang with big, wide eyes, not believing her ears. Of all the people to agree, it was Yang? What in Remnant was happening?

“It’s not just ‘love’, plain and simple,” Yang continued with a deep crinkle between her brows, and the thumb of her left hand caressed the smoothed side much like she always did. “It’s also what you can do for that love, _with_ that love,” looking up, Yang stared at Kiba, who was grinning from ear to ear. “Right?”

As the healer nodded vehemently, she merely scoffed, rolling her eyes and suddenly unwilling to stare Yang in the eyes, a wave of shame resurging from the depths of her conscience.

“I can’t believe you, of all people, agree! Not after what I did, the way I left!”

“Weiss,” Yang called her calmly, and slowly, hesitantly, she met her eyes, seeing the small smile pulling her lips. “Of course I agree with Kiba. You spent the last eight years and a half carrying my sister’s most prized possession and trying to not let her death be in vain, because you love her. You kept writing me, hundreds of letters and all, even though you never expected an answer, because you love me. You were willing to overlook Blake’s past,” Yang gently lifted her right hand and settled it on Blake’s head, right between the ears and making them so much more apparent, now. “Overlooked your birthright _without a second thought_ , might I add, because you love Blake.”

Feeling a bit of a blush climbing up her neck to color her cheeks, she crossed her arms just a bit tighter over her chest, shying her eyes away from Yang.

“Well, now that you say it like that…” she muttered, shrugging slightly her good shoulder.

“Baby,” Yang let out, and she snapped her head up at her instantly, her heart thumping out of her chest at the familiar pet name and the small, cornered smile pulling Yang’s lips. “I don’t think there’s anything you wouldn’t do for love.”

With that, Yang stood and stepped closer, returning the bear to her and even leaning over to press a kiss on top of her head, stopped for a ‘you chose well’ at Kiba before walking away. As the healer was beaming and she barely felt when Blake pressed a kiss to her temple before walking away, she looked down at the bear, running her thumb along the smoothed edge, like she had done so a million times before, but strangely it felt like it weighed more in her hand, now.

A soft clear of voice in front of her made her snap her head up with a blink, and she was met with Ivory’s fidgeting form, her lilac eyes passing from the bear to her, and for a moment they stood there in silence, Ivory apparently mulling over something while she waited patiently for whatever the girl had to say.

“Thank you for writing mommy so many letters,” Ivory finally let out, a small smile pulling her lips. “They’re making her happy.”

Blinking, she swallowed thickly, not really knowing how she was supposed to react.

“It was my pleasure, really,” she tried to say casually, but her voice shook ever so slightly, remembering all those nights of anguish she had spent all alone with Yang’s ghost for only company. “She was always in my thoughts. Every day.”

A smile just a bit larger answered her, and she saw the ghost of a dimple appearing, barely making it to the outline, before the girl leaned over to gently hug her, and she felt so humbled by the gesture that she barely responded, until finally she kicked some senses into her and curled an arm around Ivory, lightly, but closed her eyes still.

This… this was the first time she held her daughter.

Before she knew it, it was over, Ivory pulled away and ran after her mother, and she was left there, her heart in her throat as she looked down at the bear she still held.

****

She had learned that Blake and Yang were leading the long string of townsfolks to the next town, bigger and better defended, with actual soldiers and Huntsmen on site to defend against, most of the time now, bandits rather than Grimm. It had walls, and good gates, and it would be a good place to hold if the Megoliath ever came even though she knew it wouldn’t matter.

She had seen the thing ram the thickest wall she had ever seen like it was wet tissue paper. But she didn’t voice her concerns, instead, she lagged in the back of the line, her hand resting on the hilt of her rapier, just in case, as she kept an eye on their surroundings. Yang led the group, Blake and Kiba manning the long line, with her closing the march. She simply hoped that if trouble ever came to them, it could come from the back, because she was the one still in the thick of it, even if she still had bandages constricting her chest at the moment.

Another day came and went, and she decided to keep the first watch for the night, if it could only sooth the jitters she had. But the night was calm, almost boring, though she could appreciate the quiet chirping of crickets and frogs from the nearby stream. The night sky was wonderfully clear, and the stars were breathtaking.

Blake came to relieve her from her peaceful watch, patting her shoulder to bring her attention back, and she was glad for it; an ache had started in her back. She had been standing far too long for someone with a back injury. And so, she sighed in relief as soon as she laid down on her bedroll, letting out a long sigh, and was about to fall asleep but not before she looked over Yang and Ivory, a couple of paces away, both sharing the same bedroll.

It made her smile to see them, both laying down the same way on their sides, but as Yang’s features were peaceful, Ivory’s were scrunched, a deep furrow between her brows, much like Yang had told her she did when she slept.

Morning came again without any incident during the night, and as the large group started to slowly pack up and continue the journey, Kiba waved her over as he wanted to check on her bandages and her injuries, but to her surprise, Yang stepped up instead, taking the responsibility from him.

And as Yang was waving for her to follow, a more quiet, private place in mind it seemed, she shared a look with Kiba, slightly worried by the warning glance Yang had served the healer with. Kiba, however, looked entirely unfazed by it; if anything, he winked at her knowingly, creating a bright red blush on her cheeks. Turning on her heels, she swiftly followed the tall blonde before she disappeared from view.

It was by a small stream that Yang stopped, depositing the small basket she was carrying with various cloths and spare, clean bandages should she need another, and Yang sat, patting the spot in front of her.

Blinking as she realised how alone they were in this moment, she wiped her clammy palms on her skirt, anxious knots forming in her guts, but she still carefully sat in front of Yang, offering her back to the blonde. Wordlessly, she shrugged off her jacket, and the light breeze made her shiver slightly. Still, as she carefully folded the jacket and set it aside, she glanced over her shoulder, but not quite enough to truly see Yang behind her.

“What was that about?” She asked, quietly, wondering if she wasn’t about to make everything worse with their still fragile bond. “Kiba always looked after my bandages before.”

“Yeah, well maybe I didn’t like how often he did,” Yang bit right back, and she sounded so petulant about it that it very nearly made her laugh. “Or how familiar he is with you.”

“Are you…”

Slowly as to not hurt her back, she wiggled in her seat to turn towards Yang, who was narrowing her eyes at her with such a deep scowl that she couldn’t help but snort, not believing her eyes.

“I’m sorry, I just really have to look at you for this but… Are you _jealous_?” She couldn’t help but sound incredulous, feeling strangely flattered.

“No,” Yang instantly growled, frowning at the basket as she seemingly searched for something with the tips of her fingers, but it made her gasp all the same.

“Goodness… You are!”

“So maybe I am!” Yang snapped, but very clearly unhappy she was feeling this way. “Maybe I am jealous of a man you apparently knew for three months, and who is acting like he knows you for longer than me.”

“Yang,” she let out, her smile vanishing instantly. “He saved my life. Kiba’s been… so good to me. But he knows my heart belongs to you…”

Still wearing a frown on her face, Yang looked up from the basket to meet her eyes, and even if Yang was trying to hide it, she could see how unsure the blonde was, how she wanted to believe her words.

“And only you,” she added much more quietly, reaching over to lightly brush the tips of her fingers on Yang’s knee, not brave enough to do anything else without proper authorisation. “He’s simply being a good friend, and a good healer. He always took great care of me.”

“And I didn’t?” Yang stubbornly countered, moving so her fingertips didn’t touch Yang anymore.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” she couldn’t help but let out firmly, feeling her own expression hardening slightly. “Yang, what is this about? I’ve never, _ever_ seen you jealous before. I can’t believe you are, I mean, Kiba is a _man_ , as in, I’m a _lesbian_!”

“That’s not what I-” Releasing a tight sigh as Yang merely made her turn over again, so her back was to Yang, the blonde carefully unzipped the rest of her top; even if most of her back was exposed once her jacket was off, to properly unwrap the bandages, she had to be topless. Then, minding every move and touches, Yang pulled it from her, slowly. “I just… You’re so at ease with him.”

“Yes, well…” She mumbled, trying hard not to blush when she felt Yang’s breath against her neck when Yang finally pulled her top off, before the warm breath left her skin as Yang folded it beside them, and she had half a mind to release the breath she was holding. “He’s not the woman I love with every fiber of my being, that I left behind because I was too scared to have a proper conversation.”

Yang had barely started working on slowly unwrapping the bandage around her chest and suddenly the blonde stopped, and she could feel her stare on the back of her head.

“Is it that hard to talk to me?” Yang sounded hurt, her voice barely above a murmur. “You… you’ve never really tried, ever since we left town. I mean, whenever we’re alone together, we barely say two words to each other before it feels awkward.” Then, after a short pause as Yang’s movements resumed, her touch barely brushing over her skin, Yang sighed, and she could imagine how her broad shoulders drooped with it. “Why is it so hard?”

“I’m just… not sure you want me to,” she simply answered, lowering her head.

Once again, Yang’s movements stopped, over her chest and practically embracing her as Yang was passing the roll to her other hand, and with those words, Yang sighed, and she felt the soft press of the blonde’s forehead against her shoulder, both strong arms lowering on each side of her, the bandage forgotten for the moment.

“Weiss, of course I want you to,” Yang murmured softly, and she had to swallow at the feel of Yang’s breath on the naked skin of her back, the few that was exposed anyway. “I… I missed you. I miss you. The letters are helping, but… It’s not everything.”

“I missed you too,” she replied in the same way, turning her head to look over her shoulder. “But I’m… not quite sure as to how I can make it better, what I can say. It’s not only you, there’s… There’s Ivory too, and that’s a whole other story, and…”

The soft press of a kiss against the base of her neck interrupted her train of thoughts effectively and effortlessly, and she had to swallow again, closing her eyes when another creeped up her neck, Yang’s warm, left hand forgetting the bandage roll to lightly cup the untouched side of her neck. Releasing the breath she didn’t know she was holding when those soft lips, that she had dreamed of ever since leaving, pressed just as lightly right under her jaw, and she felt herself reclining into Yang, her heart suddenly pounding inside her chest.

But, before she could lose her head completely, she sat a hand on Yang’s thigh behind her, curling her fingers and slightly sinking her nails in the firm flesh.

“Yang, there’s… probably a lot of people waiting on us,” she breathed out unevenly, her voice barely a rasp, but it was enough to pause Yang’s advances, for a second at least. “And-and I would rather wait, until I’m sure that we’re…”

“Your heart is pounding,” Yang’s lips murmured against her skin, nuzzling behind her ear instead.

A breathless, dry laugh escaped her lips as she reluctantly pulled away from the soft touch, and she could hear the pout in Yang’s sigh when she did.

“Yes, well, you know how little you have to do to rile me up,” she tried to joke, clearing her throat as she shifted in place, trying to forget the lingering tingles from Yang’s kisses on her neck. “And now, after years deprived of being touched…”

An entirely too smug hum sounded behind her, and she had half a mind to roll her eyes, instead letting the blush climb up her neck and burn her cheeks as Yang’s hands returned wisely to their task, even if the not-so-discreet brushes against her sides made her shiver, one that she tried to ignore every time. Now, as she was staring right in front of her and _willing_ herself to think about something completely unattractive simply to survive this moment, she didn’t dare voice that she would have preferred by far having Kiba check on her bandages, because she wouldn’t be so… tense.

Still, she could tell when the teasing from Yang came to a sudden stop when the last of the bandages were taken off, and the quiet gasp she heard somehow didn’t appease at all the anxiety the slowing movements had brought on. She took a sharp breath in when warm fingers touched where the pain was muted, against her back, and she could only imagine the remnant bruise coloring it. But it wasn’t about that that Yang was concerned about, as the light touch went lower, following the jagged, large crescent scar of a wide bite mark.

“What the hell happened?” Yang whispered behind her, horror clear in her voice, and she couldn’t help but grimace, already knowing what was coming.

“A Manticore pride happened.”

“Weiss, I mean… This is… Large.”

“I know.”

“No, I mean it could have-”

“Snapped me in half?” She interrupted, daring to glance over her shoulder before ducking her head away when she saw Yang’s expression. “I know.”

A short silence stretched behind her, and she felt Yang’s hands spread against her back, searching blindly for other marks of unnamed battles that she preferred not to add in the letters, ashamed with every gasp as Yang found each of them across her body. Touching them with reverence as if Yang was reading braille and learning something new about her, something hidden and ugly, and she could only lower her head in shame, standing still and weathering Yang’s inspection.

All those scars, or at least most of them, could have been avoided if she had been careful, if she had carefully planned her attacks instead of rushing in and figuring it out as she went. But she had known even at the time that she let them mark her body like badges of shame, of failure, carrying them with her like the invisible guilt she had brought along with her. It was to give it a voice, a shape; pain and suffering as a vector for the heartbreak she was going through every single day she was away.

Those scars had been her cross to bear, amongst other things. But she had survived them, survived them all to fight for another day; and here she was, swallowing thickly as she couldn’t bear the lengthening silence behind her, couldn’t even imagine Yang’s expression now after seeing all the ways she could have died uselessly. Once again she figured Yang would yell at her, shout that she had been needlessly reckless, and she braced for it, already knowing that she deserved every harsh word Yang was going to spit at her.

She knew full well she had been going in each fight without thinking she was going to get out of it alive, after all.

But once again taking her by surprise, Yang shifted closer, and she closed her eyes when she felt the soft heat against her back.

“Weiss,” Yang murmured, quiet and somber. “Tell me… Please, tell me you’re going to be careful from now on. I… _We_ just got you back…”

With those words, she felt Yang’s left hand, warm and firm, slide down her back and settle over the bite mark just as Yang shifted closer again, wrapping her prosthetic around her waist to carefully pull her closer and into the blonde’s embrace, and she couldn’t help but sink in it, closing her eyes again as she turned her head to nuzzle Yang’s temple.

“Tell me you’re going to take better care of yourself,” Yang continued in the same quiet tone, and both her arms wrapped around her, squeezing gently. “And I don’t mean during fights. I mean after, with day-to-day life. I… I want you there, Weiss, but I want you with a good head on your shoulders.”

Still, she was nodding even before Yang finished as she curled a bit more against the blonde, hiding her face in Yang’s neck as she did.

“I will,” she murmured against Yang’s skin. “I promise, I will.”

“You have to pinky-promise.”

Feeling Yang shift, se opened her eyes and looked over to where Yang held her left hand in front of them, her pinky finger held out and waiting, and huffing at the childish endeavor, she still smiled, her heart swelling in her chest as she gently wrapped her own pinky finger around Yang’s.

“I promise, Yang,” she swore, turning in her seat and looking up into the lilac eyes of the love of her life, who smiled in response.

But when she was about to pull away, Yang held on a moment longer, and the arm around her was squeezing tighter, Yang’s eyes still drilled into hers as the smile that had graced her lips a second ago was gone in a flash.

“Pinky-promises _cannot_ be broken,” Yang made sure to shake their hands, stressing the word to make sure she completely understood.

She took a second to stare at Yang, admiring how the years apart had softened the look of her eyes, of her features, and the start of wrinkles in the corner of her eyes, and she nodded, bumping the tip of her nose with Yang’s chin lightly.

“I promise,” she said again, carrying the same amount of certitude she had before.

Visibly relaxing at that, Yang smiled again, soft and warm, and Yang’s pinky finger released hers, the blonde’s hand traveling up to cup her cheek and gently thumbing it… before leaning over, slowly.

Her heartbeat picking up with just that as she held her breath, she kept her eyes wide open, her now free hand falling to Yang’s knee and squeezing it nervously, and as Yang’s lips made contact… She realised it wasn’t against her own.

Not quite on the cheek, neither on her lips, but just at the corner of her mouth, Yang kissed her softly, her eyes closing for a moment, and she was sure her heart was just about to explode. She had feared for a second that Yang would kiss her on the lips, she wouldn’t have agreed, wouldn’t have _allowed_ for Yang to take her back as easily as this. Even if Yang surely would, she wanted to prove to her that she was serious, that she wanted to be her best self for Yang… And for Ivory.

That kiss, not quite on her lips… Meant that she wasn’t entirely out of the question, but she definitely would have to make it work on her side, too.

Hope sparked to life in the depths of her chest, and maybe it showed, because Yang’s eyes opened again and her expression softened, and after a second of hesitation, Yang’s warm fingers gently pushed a stray lock of her hair behind her ear, the touch tickling as it sent a thrill down her spine. Before too long, though, Yang cleared her throat, and they were suddenly brought back to present, a sudden breeze making her realise how naked she was from waist up, nestled in Yang’s lap, when they were supposed to check on her wounds.

A silence hovered over them then as they pulled away, Yang gently guiding her in front of the blonde again and going back to work, and she wondered if Yang found it awkward. Once upon the time, the silence was so scarce that it almost felt like a blessing at times. Then the silence grew tense, until… Shaking her head, she made a vow to herself to not let them get so wrong again. Not if she could help it, and no matter how scary it felt.

“Ivory told me you introduced yourself,” Yang reported suddenly as she was starting to check her shoulder’s bandages.

Glancing over at the love of her life, she blinked, wondering if Yang was angry she did. Would she have preferred to be there? She could do it again if Yang wanted.

“I did,” she nodded, anxious knots forming in her stomach. “Is- Is that okay?”

Visibly surprised, Yang’s hands stopped, and she could imagine how wide her lilac eyes got.

“Of course it is!” The blonde laughed gently, even though it sounded off, somehow. “You _are_ her mother, after all.”

“No,” she sighed, instantly earning Yang’s attention. “I’m a stranger. But, with time… I hope I can be a mother. If you want me to.”

Another silence settled over them, but somehow, it was a lot less heavy than earlier. And when she glanced over at Yang, she could see the relaxed, casual expression on the blonde’s face, even the ghost of a smile pulling her lips. The hope in her chest swelled again, wondering if she earned good points with that.

“Good answer,” Yang chuckled breathily. “I was a bit afraid you’d feel entitled to her, because she’s your daughter.”

If anything, it made her snort, loud and bitter as she rolled her eyes, and Yang looked over at her, her brows furrowed slightly.

“I know first hand what a grown adult being entitled to a child can do, Yang,” she couldn’t help the bite to her words as she returned her attention in front of her, grimacing. “I’m not going to do that to a child.”

A small, warm and quiet chuckle filled the silence between them again.

“Good answer.”

She felt a smile touch her lips as, for the first time in a long, _long_ time, the future didn’t look so dark and mysterious anymore. If she squinted, she could see silhouettes waiting for her, not close enough to discern faces and how many they were, but it wasn’t just endless darkness, now.

“How have you been?” She asked quietly, turning her head to look at Yang, wondering if she wasn’t overstepping the fragile bond they still had. “I mean… How are you?”

When another silence met her ears, definitely heavier than a second ago, she couldn’t help but chastise herself, wondering why she always had to say the wrong thing and ruin everything she had going for her. Of course Yang wouldn’t want to answer that! She could guess how well she took the news of her leaving!

Stupid, heartless, self-centered bi-

“Honestly, I was a wreck when you left,” Yang blurted out after a moment, interrupting her spiraling, self-deprecating thoughts. “I… I wanted you to be the first to know I was pregnant. Blake didn’t know, my dad didn’t know, nobody knew. And… you weren’t there.”

Her heart plummeting back to her heels as she felt like she had been rammed into the guts, she nearly chocked, her breath caught in her throat, and she lowered her head in shame, guilt wrapping around her like it had done for so long.

“I would have come back,” she couldn’t help but murmur, hoping this would somehow be her saving grace.

A soft touch to her elbow caught her attention, and she rose tired, haunted eyes up to Yang, who offered a small, understanding smile to her.

“I know,” was all she said.

Still, it lifted the pressing guilt and alleviated the crushing hold she had on her heart, and for a moment, she could breathe a bit better.

“Blake was so mad,” Yang continued as if nothing happened, returning her eyes on her work and the soft touch to her elbow leaving. “She couldn’t believe you didn’t learn from what happened when _she_ left, after Beacon. But then, when I told her I was pregnant and you didn’t know, she calmed down. And I saw in her eyes that she would be ready to go track you down and bring you back by the skin of your neck. But…”

This time, it was Yang’s turn to look away guiltily, and a hand found its way in blonde hair, rubbing the back of Yang’s neck uncomfortably.

“I was upset. I was… I wanted to see what you would do. So I… told Blake not to. But when you never gave news, I thought you’d moved on or you’d… You’d died. If I had known my dad was lying to me right in my face all this time, things would definitely be different.”

“Would you really have responded to my letters if you got them?” She couldn’t help but ask, her heart heavy with every word Yang spoke.

“I would have at least responded to the first,” Yang answered instantly, without an ounce of doubt. “I would have told you I was pregnant, and I would have offered you the choice of coming back or not.”

“I would have come back,” she said again, feeling pressure climbing in the back of her eyes. “In a heartbeat.”

They stayed in silence for a moment, both lost in their own thoughts and, with a change in the breeze, it carried the distant laughter of a girl, and they both recognised Ivory, soon followed by a shouting voice that sounded much like Blake’s.

“I didn’t think Blake was capable of tolerating children,” she commented idly, a smile touching her lips as she remembered, once upon a time, when they had a rescue mission, and Blake had all the troubles of the world not to hiss at all the grabby hands of the small children they had to escort.

“Yes well, she had to,” Yang answered in the same tone, light and casual. “She decided to stay with me. She was willing to help me through whatever was coming, and I can only commend her for that. It only turned out that I birthed Blake’s best friend.”

It earned an offended gasp from her as she swiftly turned to Yang, who had a small, amused smile pulling her lips.

“ _I’m_ Blake’s best friend!” She countered, pressing a hand against her chest.

“Not anymore,” Yang merely winked at her, returning her attention on her shoulder. “Think about it; your wit, and _my_ charm? Blake swoon right from the start.”

“Hm, can’t blame her,” she couldn’t help but smile at that. “This does sound like the ideal mix.”

“On a more serious note, though,” Yang caught her attention again, her voice more somber. “Blake has been very good to us. Very good _with_ us.” Yang pressed, and she wasn’t sure she understood the insinuation. Still, Yang laid it clearly for her. “Blake is a very good mother, Weiss. One that will be difficult to replace.”

“I don’t want to replace anything you already have,” she couldn’t help but sound a bit hurt at that as she pulled away from Yang’s hands, turning towards the blonde. Did Yang truly think so little of her? That she was there only to wreck whatever they had? “Yang, I’m not… I don’t want to take Blake’s place. How could I? She had all those years to get to know Ivory, she was there every step of the way! I’m not even reaching Blake’s last toe in comparison!” As Yang raised a brow, she sighed, running a hand in her hair as she searched for a way to clearly say what she wanted for her future. A future with them, if they’d let her. “I don’t- I don’t want to be a replacement, Yang. I want to be… an addition.”

As Yang stared to her for a long, long moment, her lilac eyes shifting about her face, she couldn’t help but swallow anxiously, feeling her clammy palms brushing against her skirt as she fought not to wipe them in front of Yang. She didn’t want to appear as nervous as she felt, not in front of Yang, who she was practically begging to let her back into her life.

After an eternity it felt, Yang’s lips slowly spread into a soft, warm smile, and the expression in her eyes was welcoming, as if Yang had waited all this time for her to say those words.

“Good answer,” Yang merely said, before turning away and searching through the basket at their side.

Feeling her heart thumping loudly in her chest, she followed Yang’s movements with her eyes for a second, wondering if she could even move right about now. Three good answers. Three answers that Yang took time to think over, and three answers that Yang approved. Did it… Did it mean that she would be allowed to be a part of their lives from now on? Did it mean that Yang _truly_ wanted her there?

She could only hope, and wait for a more clear sign that she was sure, Yang would gladly lay down for her should there be one.

****

Night came after another long day of walking, and during their meal in the evening, she couldn’t help but feel uneasy, and it wasn’t because of the happy chatter surrounding her as she chewed without tasting on her food, feeling the hairs at the base of her neck stand on end.

When she met Kiba’s eyes over the fire, he discreetly nodded, and she was glad not to be the only one who felt observed.

That night, even after her round, she couldn’t sleep, unable to get rid of this uneasiness sitting like a rock in the pit of her stomach, and as she rolled around again in her bed, she looked over Ivory, who had curled up on herself in her sleep at her mother’s absence, a frown still contorting her features.

After glancing around, to make extra sure nothing out of the ordinary stood out, she pulled her bedroll just a bit closer to the girl. If anything happened that night, she would only be a jump away from her. It was enough to settle the unease that was rattling her nerves.

In the morning, she practically interrogated the group, asking them if they had seen anything suspicious. When none of them reported such a thing, she rubbed a hand at the base of her neck, wondering why she only felt more uneasy as time went on.

Another day came and went, and she barely talked during it, keeping her eyes out towards the surrounding trees as the road was delving into a forest. On the other side of said forest, they would be in town, behind guarded walls, and surely she wouldn’t feel like something had been spying on them for the past two days.

Still, she could see Kiba fidgeting just as much as she did, and soon enough, it was Blake, the faunus glancing over her shoulder a handful of times over the course of their evening meal. With finer senses than most human, she had wondered shortly if Blake was so out of it that she couldn’t feel it anymore, but was glad when she was proved wrong.

Still, it was discreetly that Blake approached her just before they turned in for the night, and she had volunteered for the first watch. With the jitters she had, she wasn’t sure she would be able to sleep much that night either.

“I think something is watching us,” Blake whispered as she stopped beside her to wash her plate, appearing innocent enough.

“Yes,” she nodded just as discreetly, passing the sponge to Blake. “Something’s followed us for two days, now, but Kiba and I can’t find what it is.”

It earned her Blake’s surprised golden eyes, impressed.

“You could sense it all this time?”

“You’re more rusty than you think, Blake,” she winked at the faunus, meaning her words as a light joke, but Blake’s features contorted into one of worry as Blake glanced over at her weapon, the handle pocking out of her backpack. She hadn’t taken it with her except for the nightly watch.

“Blake,” she grabbed her friend’s arm, earning the faunus’ attention instantly as she stared at her gravely, turning the words in her mind and wondering if it was wise. But then, after nodding firmly, she knew they were. “If something happens tonight… Take Yang and Ivory, and leave.”

Blake blinked, before her eyes widened in shock.

“What? No, Weiss, if there’s trouble-”

“Blake,” she insisted, locking her eyes with her friend. “You’re rusty. Yang is, too. Ivory is just a child who never had to live in proximity of a Grimm. If they come for you, for _her_ …” She stopped, swallowing thickly. “So you grab them, and you run. Deal?”

“But what about you?” Blake deflated after a second of stubbornness, knowing that her words were true.

She smiled, feeling more at peace in this moment than she ever had before.

“I will be back. I will find you again, one way or another. I promise.”

It took Blake a long moment to rip her eyes from her, and instead turned them to the blond heads that were bent down on one of the letters she had written for Yang, apparently both enjoying reading together, and after a long, slow sigh, Blake finally nodded, closing her eyes guiltily.

“If trouble comes… I will take Yang and Ivory to safety,” Blake finally breathed out, opening her eyes only to keep her stare cast down, the sponge that had been vigorously scrubbing the plate immovable. “Deal.”

She smiled again, an invisible weight that she hadn’t been aware had settled on her mind lifted then, and she squeezed Blake’s arm lightly before letting go, returning to her task.

“Thank you, Blake.”

“But you _will_ come back,” Blake asked then, her voice unsure, and she looked up to meet her friend’s golden eyes, seeing the uneasiness in them. “Right?”

It made her pause as she turned it over in her mind. Of course, more than anything, she wanted to go back to them and, with it, finally lay her weapon down and rest, she wanted to get to know Yang again, she hoped to fall in love all over again, and most of all, wanted to get to know Ivory…

But she knew the odds weren’t in her favor. If the Grimm she thought was stalking them were as ravenous as the two Sabyrs she had the misfortune of crossing path with and given she would have died if not for Kiba… Maybe she should have taken better care of herself.

In truth, she wasn’t sure if she would come home at all, after the Megoliath.

“Of course,” she lied so easily, offering a smile that she had so many years to practise and met her eyes readily.

And she knew Blake didn’t believe her one second.

****

Keeping her eyes on her surroundings as the night only seemed to get darker already, she started her rounds, watching over their camp of fortune. Small campfires dotted the long road again, and some folks even waved at her when she passed by them, glad to know that someone was watching over them, and she waved back to them every time with a smile.

If this simple thing could settle their anxiety and lower the chances of them attracting Grimm, she would gladly do it. Still, as she was about to turn back, she once again watched over their spot, relaxing when she saw the sleeping forms of her old teammates and Kiba, but raised her brows in surprise when she was met by Ivory’s stare readily, who seemed to have waited for it.

As she stopped in her tracks, Ivory gently left Yang’s side and stood, soundlessly stepping around Blake and finally joined her, looking up at her with her hands behind her back. The girl smiled, small but eager, and she returned it hesitantly, once again glancing over to Yang, who kept snoring gently.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” She asked quietly, hoping she wouldn’t disturb anyone.

A shrug answered her, Ivory, too, looking back at their camp.

“I can’t sleep,” the girl sighed, before returning her attention back at her. “I thought… I could keep watch with you?”

“I…”

Closing her hand on Myrtenaster’s hilt as she, again, glanced at Yang, she shifted her weight uneasily, wondering if it was truly wise. Yang would be in a panic if she woke up to see Ivory gone. Then again, the girl would be in the safest hands if she stayed with her. Besides, she reasoned as she looked down at the girl who was waiting, still eagerly staring up at her, this might be a good time to talk a bit.

So, after one last glance to Yang and taking a sharp breath in, she nodded, returning her attention on Ivory.

“Of course,” she smiled a bit hesitantly. “But you stick to me, and you do everything I say. Deal?”

“Deal!” The girl beamed, and the dimple was well and truly there when she smiled.

“Alright,” she couldn’t help but chuckle, unable to keep the smile from her lips at the girl’s eagerness. “Now, it might bore you.”

“It won’t.”

“And you might be cold.”

“I’m fine.”

“We will do one round, and then you go back to bed.”

“That wasn’t the deal!”

“And yet, you accepted it,” she winked, gesturing for Ivory to follow.

With an audible grumble, the girl followed, and they walked side by side for a moment, delving deeper in the shadows of the night as they started away from the reassuring light of the campfires, but they could see plenty with the moon hung high in the sky, nearly full. Still, the night was warm, warmer than the night before, and the crickets chirped with the same enthusiasm as usual, which put her mind at ease somewhat.

“When’s your birthday?” Ivory suddenly asked, her voice fortunately kept low.

Turning to the girl in surprise, she blinked, tilting her head to the side.

“Yang didn’t tell you? Or Blake?”

“It was never a question on my mind before,” the girl lightly shrugged a single shoulder, fidgeting a bit.

Nodding as she returned her attention on their surroundings, she let out a quiet sigh.

“May 15th. And you?”

“October 31st.”

It made her stop instantly as she turned to the girl, wide eyed, and Ivory looked so small suddenly, squeezing one of her arms uneasily.

“Do you know about your aunt Ruby?” She asked, almost breathless.

The girl, after a second of hesitation, nodded shyly, and she shook herself, kicking some senses back into her. This little girl never asked for her grief. So, after making them stop, she took a knee in front of the girl, and gently took her hand before meeting her eyes with a gentle smile.

“She would be honored to share her birthday with you,” she said reassuringly, squeezing the girl’s hand gently.

Grateful, Ivory smiled a bit more, and she was spurred on by this, wondering if Yang talked about her dear sister sometimes.

“Can you tell me more about aunt Ruby?” Ivory asked quietly, seemingly hesitant. “Mommy doesn’t like talking about her, and… Auntie talked about her sometimes, but it hurts her too.”

“This was hers,” she gently said, touching the red cloak falling over her right shoulder. “Did you know that your aunt Ruby was my partner?”

“Mhm,” the girl nodded, listening attentively, her eyes sparkling even in the dim light of the moon.

“At first, we didn’t like each other at all,” she chuckled at the memory, looking down at Ivory’s hand that she was still holding. “Or at least, _I_ didn’t like her at all. Ruby was simply trying to be my friend.”

“Why didn’t you like her?” The girl asked curiously, tilting her head to the side.

“Because she was childish, careless and reckless,” she answered instantly with a haughty huff. “Also, because she was two years younger than me and she was made the leader of our team.”

“Oh…”

“In the end, she was my best friend,” she smiled warmly, remembering with fondness all the times Ruby had dragged her in her shenanigans and she had simply followed her. “We got into so much trouble together, and I remember each of them very fondly. She was mischievous, had a far too great propensity to get into trouble, and sometimes she _would_ scare the hell out of me, but she was brave, she was kind, and she was willing to fight for those who couldn’t fight for themselves. I was so proud of her, and…” Her throat tightening for a moment as she lowered her head, she closed her eyes, trying to keep it together. “I hope I made her proud, too.”

“Why wouldn’t she be proud of you?”

“I made a promise to her, a few days after we met,” she remembered the words and the tone she had used, back then not having a clue that those same words would carry her on for years on end. “I hope I kept my word. I stayed by her side until the end, but… I wish I could know.”

When a silence answered her, she shook her head, letting out a rueful chuckle as she willed the tears welling her eyes to disappear. “I’m sorry, I’m getting off-track,” she smiled, feeling her lips shake slightly. “Would you like to see some pictures?”

It made the girl perk up straight, Ivory smiling widely and excitedly up at her as she nodded vigorously. Chuckling again as, this time, it sounded a lot more sincere, she climbed to her feet again, releasing Ivory’s hand after a soft squeeze. Still, the girl was bouncing in excitement beside her as she searched one of her pouches, fishing the powered down scroll that staying in the bottom of the pouch for months on end.

They started walking again as they waited for the scroll to boot up, and when it did, she was greeted by the background image of her scroll… Which was Yang sleeping. She remembered a handful of times when she had laid awake in bed, pressing her scroll to her chest, hoping to somehow feel Yang’s warmth or the softness of her skin, she even tricked herself sometimes to hear Yang’s soft snores in the howling wind.

Wondering if she would ever see her again.

“Oh, it’s mommy!”

Startled from her thoughts by Ivory invading her personal space to look at the scroll in her hands, she let it go, not having the heart to push her away.

“She’s pretty,” the girl commented absent-mindedly, leaning her cheek against her arm to better see.

“She is,” she could only agree, smiling gently.

“Did you really think of mommy that often?”

Turning to look down at Ivory, she could see the thoughtful look in her eyes, and the way a small crinkle appeared between her brows.

“I told you before, didn’t I?” She smiled even though her heart pulled at the genuine question. “She was always on my mind. My first thought in the morning, and my last before sleep.”

Without adding anything on the matter, Ivory tapped on the screen wordlessly, finding the gallery where all the photos were stored as the app opened and loaded already a couple of them in display, the last few she had were of Yang, along with a video. Curious, the girl pressed it, and she let it, already knowing what it was.

She had a habit, the years Yang and her had lived together after the war, to leave her scroll unattended in the living room when she was working from home, in her office. When it had happened, she had assumed Yang had recorded with her own scroll, but instead, voluntary or not, Yang had taken hers.

The video started in front of a closed door, with Yang snickering in the back like a hyena, and she smiled just hearing it, feeling her heart pull. They had been so happy, once upon a time…

Then, in one swift movement, Yang swung the door open and there she was, sitting behind her desk and being startled out of focus just as Yang started to [sing](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sx89zE49MGg), and she could guess the wide grin pulling her lips even if they couldn’t see it.

“ _Baaabyy, I’m hot just like an oven, I need some lovin’!_ ”

“Oh, for crying out loud…” She heard herself mutter in the video, seeing herself ripping off the reading glasses she used to have.

“ _Baaaabyyy, I can’t hold it much longer, it’s getting stronger and stronger…_ ”

“Yang, I’m working!”

“ _When I get that feelin’, I’m on se-_ ”

A sharp yelp interrupted Yang’s apparent tentative to wow her as something sailed right past the camera lens, and she remembered it being her stapler, knowing it wouldn’t have hurt Yang even if it _did_ hit her. Still, it made Yang laugh, never deterred, and instead of going away the camera shook as Yang ran around her desk, and finally, they could see both of them as Yang, holding the scroll at arm length, loudly kissed her cheek while she simply scowled at the camera.

The video stopped then, a second after her features softened and the crack of a smile was finally pulling her lips.

Swallowing thickly as she wondered if they would ever be this careless again, she let Ivory swipe the video away, instead letting her sort through the next pictures. Most of them were of Yang, sometimes when the blonde was aware of it and posing, other times during mondain activities, she simply remembered never having enough of the love of her life. She had felt the need to record every little moment together, to have a keepsake of every moment her heart nearly jumped out of her chest, each time thinking she couldn’t be more in love only to realise how wonderfully wrong she was.

She was abruptly slammed back on tracks when she recognised the slightly blurry pictures that Ivory was curiously swiping through, remembering the first few weren’t so incriminating as, with a blush climbing fast up her neck and burning her cheeks, she pulled the scroll away.

“Not these ones,” she muttered quietly, quickly moving the set to a separate folder in _another_ folder, just in case. Those were, after all, the pictures that kept her company on incredibly lonely nights.

As she scrolled through her pictures, she found one of Blake, Yang and herself, as they stood in front of the new house she had bought for Yang, and they looked so radiantly happy that it made her pause, swallowing thickly. Returning her scroll to Ivory, the girl smiled warmly when she saw the picture, observing it carefully before swiping again. Then, a couple she had taken with Blake, and Ivory let out a delighted squeal at the sight of her aunt.

“Her hair is so short!” The girl marvelled. “She’s so pretty!”

Chuckling along, she leaned over to see that Ivory was looking over the pictures she had taken right after Blake had her haircut, the faunus visibly embarrassed by the attention but smiling crookedly still.

“Yes, Blake had her hair short for a while,” she nodded, resting her hand on her rapier’s hilt. “I guess she didn’t cut them again as you grew up.”

Shaking her head for an answer, Ivory finally stumbled on the last picture she took of the whole team, and her heart sank at the sight. In a reprieve from the incessant waves of Grimm, they were surrounded around a small fire and were taking a bite, looking dishevelled and exhausted, but she had insisted to take one, and she was glad she had been adamant about it. She was leaned against Yang’s shoulder, Yang had her arm around Ruby’s neck and Blake had rested her chin on Ruby’s shoulder; four thumbs up completing the look.

She took the picture two days before the end of the war. Two days before… Ruby died.

The memory still haunted her nights sometimes, how the horror and chaos of the battlefield came to a sudden halt when a powerful deflagration projected everything back, and she remembered how terrified she had been at that moment… Then it was all black, landing hardly on her back and knocking her head, knocked out cold instantly.

When she woke up, the war had ended, the Grimm were gone… and so was Ruby.

“Thank you for letting me look over the pictures,” a small voice brought her back to present, and she realised she was spacing out for a while now, as Ivory had the time to look over the rest of the picture and even closed the scroll.

Taking the device back with a slightly trembling hand and a shaky smile, she returned it to her pouch.

“You’re welcome,” she tightly let out, before clearing her throat.

“Can you tell me how you met mommy?” Ivory asked then, standing a lot closer than when they first started on their nightly watch. “Mommy told me, but I’m sure she was lying.”

“Why do you think so?” She couldn’t help but arch a brow, finding the subject far safer than her thoughts.

“Because she said aunt Ruby exploded, and that because of it you screamed at her, and mommy tried to protect aunt Ruby,” the girl shrugged. “But people don’t just explode.”

It made her laugh quietly as she smiled fondly at the memory, even though she couldn’t help the slight cringe when she remembered how difficult she was acting back then.

“Well, your mother was telling the truth, unbeknownst to you,” she couldn’t help the amused tone coloring her voice, and even laughed when Ivory snapped her head back at her with wide, stupefied eyes. “You see, your aunt Ruby wasn’t looking where she was going on our very first day at Beacon Academy, and…”

Under Ivory’s attentive, vividly interested eyes, she was more than happy to retell for the girl the debut of the once known team RWBY, adding her story with anecdotes and snippets of events of their team or friends, and even delved in retelling some missions the team went on as full fledged Huntresses. And she was glad that Ivory seemed so fascinated by her stories, even though she wasn’t as good a storyteller as Yang.

Still, it seemed to make Ivory even more at ease in her presence, and the girl then started to tell her about school, about her classes, her friends, on the trips they took with the school or the couple of times Ivory, Yang and Blake went camping, and she listened avidly and with utmost care, wishing all the while she could have been there from the start.

The girl also told her when they went to visit Tai, and she was a bit surprised to hear that, from last the girl heard, Zwei was still alive and kicking. This dog could be a hundred years old and she wouldn’t even be surprised, at this point.

Still, she could see that despite having a great moment together, Ivory was growing tired, barely stifling her yawns at that point, and when she saw her shivering, she instantly shed her jacket for the girl to wear, who gladly accepted it. And, cutting their round short while hiding it from Ivory, they finally came back to their camp, and she escorted Ivory to the bed where Yang was still sleeping.

Shrugging her jacket back on, she took a knee beside Ivory as the girl settled under the blanket against Yang, and with another yawn, Ivory closed her eyes.

“You’re much nicer than you sounded back when you were at Beacon,” the girl commented in a mumble, and it made her huff, easily conceding the point.

“I try to be a better person everyday.”

“I’m glad I got to finally meet you.”

Opening her mouth to simply let it shut wordlessly, she sighed silently, lowering her eyes and away until she noticed the blanket sliding down Ivory’s shoulder. So, with great care, she gently pulled it well over the girl’s shoulder, and even made sure she was tucked in.

“I wish I was in your life from the start, Ivory,” she only murmured in response, looking up, only to realise Ivory was already fast asleep.

Sighing again, she took a moment to look over Ivory, and as they were side by side, she could see the difference of color between Yang’s and Ivory’s hair. As Yang’s was more of a yellow-gold shade, Ivory’s was platinum, almost white at a glance.

Shifting to reluctantly return to her round, thinking bitterly that it would be quite lonely after the wonderful company, she was startled out of her thoughts when a hand gently closed around her forearm, and her eyes snapped back to Ivory, wondering if she needed something and willing to travel all over the world for it.

Instead, she was met by a sleepy stare, half-closed lilac eyes and dishevelled blonde hair as Yang snuggled closer to Ivory, and the hand on her forearm slid down to instead grab her hand, and she stared as Yang brought it to her lips, pressing a soft kiss against the back of it. Swallowing thickly as she lightly squeezed Yang’s fingers, she felt the soft breath against her skin when Yang shifted, her hand releasing hers to snake around Ivory and pull the girl closer.

In a moment of weakness, she brushed the back of her fingers against Yang’s cheek, marveling at its softness for the millionth time, and her heart seized with the _need_ to be close to her, close to _them_. She wanted more than anything to just lay down beside Yang and hold them both against her. She wanted to be part of this family again.

 _Bide your time_ , she had to remind herself, hearing the soft, sleepy sigh Yang let out as her lilac eyes slid close, nuzzling pale blonde hair, and despite the chiding, she leant over, leaving a soft, light kiss on top of golden tresses.

Then, she left them be, returning to her morose watch.

****

Her watch was drawing to an end, uneventful after Ivory’s company, and she was glad that Blake was the one replacing her. Yang surely didn’t rest much with Ivory gone, and more to that, the night was so dark even with the light of the moon that the eyes of a faunus could certainly help. So she was slowly, lazily making her way back to bed, already smiling at the thought of slipping under the blanket.

But the obvious bliss was cut short when, again, a strange shiver thrummed just under her skin, raising goosebumps and making the hairs at the made of her neck stand on end, and suddenly, she was careful with each step she took, trying to see and name every strange shadow she could see, her hand closing tightly around the hilt of her weapon.

A lone, loud cawing made her jump, but she spotted it in no time.

A raven was perked on a branch not far from her, and even in the darkness she could see the beady, red eyes staring at her as the bird seemingly observed her, its head turning this way and that.

Suspicious, she turned to it, giving a long, careful look to the sides, then took a step closer, tightening the hold on her rapier.

“Qrow?” She asked, unsure.

The bird, tilting its head to the side, chirped curiously, blinking its beady eyes. She wasn’t sure it was much of an answer.

“Well, if it’s really you, we could use another Huntsmen,” she sighed to the raven, looking away. “If the Megoliath comes, I’m not sure I can deal with it alone. And I can’t… I won’t risk Yang’s safety. Not now.”

Looking up at the bird, she blinked when it only cawed as loudly as it did the first time, and she felt strangely offended by it, bristling.

“Fine,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “I guess I’m losing it.”

Turning away from the bird with a shake of her head, she made another, quick round around the camps, just to be extra sure, before waking Blake up to relieve her.

Somehow, she should have known better.

Sleeping directly on the ground, she was woken up by the rapidly growing tremors she could feel from it, at first small and discreet, but sooner than later, she knew it wasn’t anything natural.

She jumped out of bed just as she heard the flocks of birds pass over their heads, panicked and disorganised, just as animals came rushing through their camps, too, and her heart seized in her chest.

She had sincerely hoped it would come when they would be closer to the town, to at least have help from the guards and Huntsmen that protected it.

Still, she instantly turned to Kiba, who was blinking the sleep from his eyes, and she hoisted him by the collar of his leather shirt.

“You lead the villagers towards town,” she ordered, her tone leaving no place for arguments as she thrusted his bow and quiver in his hands. “Go!”

He blinked, stock still, and she had to shove him for Kiba to move, starting at a run and already shouting and waking everyone, waving his arms to gather their attention and lead them in the right direction. Then, she turned to Blake, who was biting her lip, before turning to Yang.

“Go,” she told her, her eyes landing on Ivory who was slowly catching on what was going on. “You will be their last line of defenses.”

Instantly, Yang’s features hardened, twisting angrily.

“But we’re-”

“Yang,” she interrupted, drawing her blade as the tremors were more violent by the second. She didn’t imagine it was alone, either. “Go. As long as I breathe, they won’t get through me.”

Before Yang could protest more, a shadow passed over their heads and they looked up in synch, and she felt her stomach drop at the sight. Megoliaths were such ancient being that they too, much like Salem, could call upon other Grimm, and she had hoped it wouldn’t be the case for this one. When she saw the gigantic Nevermore flying over their heads towards the fleeing mass of panicked civilians, she knew it wouldn’t be alone.

Instantly she reached a hand up, and a large, black glyph appeared near the flying Grimm, trapping one of its leg and making it screech furiously, beating its large wings to try and free itself. In the corner of her eyes, she could see Ivory covering her ears, pressing herself to Yang in fear.

Gritting her teeth, she felt sweat gather at her temples when the tremors were only increasing as she could only imagine the stampede coming their way, but still gripped tighter her rapier as she started towards the Nevermore, managing to summon a series of glyph that would take her higher in the air. But as her attention was divided, the flying Grimm broke free of her glyph, and instead of pursuing after the group Kiba was leading farther up the road, the blood-red eyes of the Grimm turned to her.

Or rather, _through_ her, its attention drawn towards the nearest, strongest source of negative energy. Which would happen to be one little girl, trying to hide behind Yang.

Feeling her features hardening at the realisation, she shot a flurry of ice shards towards the Grimm’s large beak, not quite hurting it but hoping it would draw its attention away as she was still jumping from glyph to glyph, sailing in the air and away from the civilians. The first few shards shattered harmlessly on the large, thick beak, but the last two hit close to the Grimm’s eye, definitely earning its undivided attention as the black, feathered head turned to her, fire in its eyes and another ear-piercing screech filled the air.

As she rushed past the flying Grimm, scanning its body and trying to find a weakness, she realised that, once again, the back, nape and belly were heavily armoured, and she cursed, wondering if those dark beast were truly capable of learning as much as she thought they could. Ever since the start of her journey, she found a morbid fascination with those older, wiser Grimm, noticing how their reactions were sharper, faster, and their armor were actually efficient, instead of being non-existent.

But she found a spot, under the wings and close to the bird-Grimm’s chest, there was a soft spot, the black feathers exposed and standing out beside the stark white bone plating. She had a place to start, although, as she looked down at the thin, delicate blade of her rapier, she definitely needed something larger than this.

Surprising her and interrupting her thoughts, the flying Grimm dived at her, screeching, and at the last second reached with its sharp talons that were definitely taller than her. Still, she zipped to the waiting glyph in front of her and instead propelled herself towards the Nevermore, her heart pounding when she sailed harmlessly right passed a sharp talon, and thrusted her rapier forward as she was rocketing towards the neck of the Grimm.

But it was quick, agile in the air, and it beat its wings enough to shift, rising enough for her blade to graze the bone-plating of its neck with enough force to leave a groove but not deep enough to go through, and as she was falling freely, she focused her Semblance on her right palm, calling onto one of her summoning.

Twisting on herself as she fell, she threw the large, glowing in a pale blue hue two handed sword towards the Grimm, the sword passing through a yellow glyph to add velocity from her throw, and taking the Nevermore by surprise, the blade sank in the plating of its neck and flesh.

It wasn’t a killing blow, that she knew, but it was enough to unnerve it, to wound it, and the Grimm was trying to grasp at the offending sword planted in its neck with its talons, trying to pull it out, and she returned her attention on the ground at that moment, noticing that Blake and Yang were shooting towards the rustling trees, slowly backing away from it, and Ivory who was running towards Kiba, bow drawn and waving at her as he guarded the back of the line of civilians.

Passing through a series of black glyph to slow her decent, she landed heavily but gracefully between the two, rising from her knee to send a handful of shards towards the old, spiky Creep running to them.

“I’ll hold them off!” She shouted to the two women, glad that her shards and Yang’s well-placed explosive rounds felled the Grimm. “Go!”

She felt Yang’s body heat spike, but before any of them could say anything a furious screech overhead caught their attentions, and the large shadow of the Nevermore passed over them, the flying Grimm turning in a smooth arc over their heads before, with a strong beat of its wings, it sent a trail of sharp feathers towards them. Jumping away from the attack, all three were unscathed by it, but then her heart dropped when the flurry of feathers continued up the road, towards a terrified little girl…

Reacting before she could even think of it, she zipped over through the raining feathers and ignored the sharp pain on her right shoulder in favor of sliding on a knee, catching Ivory and raising a thick wall of ice behind her just as the attack was reaching the girl, and even if the ice was thick enough to stop most of the razor-sharp feathers, she knew it wouldn’t be enough for _all_ of them.

Even more for her leg, that was poking out from behind the iced cover she had created in a rush, as she could feel stabbing pain radiating from her calf.

So, gritting her teeth and feeling her Aura already soothing the pain from her right shoulder and the numb feel at her back, she shifted when the raining of feathers stopped, hiding her wounded leg from view when Ivory turned panicked, wide lilac eyes towards her.

“It’s going to be alright, Ivory,” she smiled, focusing past the girl at the large glyph covering the ground. “I promise.”

“Mommy-” The girl started, her voice tight and high-pitched as Ivory tried to look over her shoulder, but she gently touched her chin, bringing her attention back.

“You mother is alright, so is Blake,” she assured gently, hearing them both hurrying towards them. “You have to be brave for them, alright? Can you do that?”

After a second, the trembling girl nodded shortly, and she smiled again, her heart bleeding in her chest as her mind was set at ease when the largest Manticore she had ever seen emerged from the glyph behind Ivory, coming towards them.

“What the hell’s that?” She heard distantly Yang grumble, and at the sound of her mother’s voice, Ivory’s eyes lit up, going once again passed her and over her shoulder.

“I have something very important to ask of you, Ivory,” she gently let out, and the girl’s eyes went to her again, the remnant panic still there but curious nonetheless. “Now it might be very hypocritical of me to ask you that, but…” After taking a sharp breath in through her nose just as she heard Blake’s gasp of horror behind her, probably noticing the feather piercing her calf, now. “Take care of each other while I’m gone, alright?”

That seemed to catch Ivory’s attention entirely as a soft frown graced her features, her lilac eyes, so familiar to her, blinking.

“Will you be gone long?” Ivory asked cautiously.

She smiled again, and this time she reached over, gently cupping the girl’s cheek and thumbed it, to at least feel it once in her life.

“I hope not.”

The soft frown now scrunching up completely at her answer, she didn’t give her the time to add anything else as the stark white Manticore very carefully grasped Ivory with its clawed front paw, but contrary to her expectations, the girl simply looked up and readily met the soft blue eyes of the Grimm.

“Weiss, what-” Yang started, before yelping in surprise when the white Grimm turned to her, only to grab her and tossing her onto its back. “Hey!”

The tail of the Grimm wrapped around Blake in the same heartbeat and, without dallying any longer, the Grimm took flight, away from her, away from the coming fight as she watched them go, hearing both Blake and Yang yelling her name along with other things that got lost in the wind.

Still, the restless Nevermore was circling again in the sky, focused on the Manticore fleeing, and she gritted her teeth as she looked down at her calf. With a steady hand, she cut the protruding feather, not yet ready to pull the last of it from her leg. After all, she thought, wincing as she got to her feet and turning to several Grimm, massing right at the treeline, she didn’t want to pass out from lost blood before she could stop them.

But with a useless leg, there wasn’t much she could do. So, as the trees in front of her were starting to tremble and some even fell over, she firmly planted her blade in the ground and, focusing all her energy, closed her eyes.

She heard the distinctive sound of her glyph, knew it spread on the ground in front of her, and she heard the clanking of the knight’s armor as it emerged from the glyph, and suddenly, she was seeing through its eyes, through the slits of its helmet.

Standing tall and easily dwarfing most of the Grimm in front of her, she extended her left arm towards the Nevermore circling back to her, and a smirk touched her lips when the flying Grimm faltered in its flight when the large, glowing blade was ripped from its neck, sailing in the air right back in her hand as she took a step forward, readying her blade in front of her.

In one swing, she took out the handful Creeps and Beowolfs that lunged forward, while the others either jumped out of the way or climbed to escape the large, sharp blade.

The Nevermore dived at her, screeching, extending its talons with the clear intent of sinking them right in her head, but with the flat of her sword as she twirled it back to her she swatted the attack away, instead grabbing the Grimm by the neck with her free hand and bringing it down, hard.

Grabbing the hilt with both hands, she raised it high above her head before bringing it down with force, but instead of cutting clean the head of the Nevermore, the Grimm managed to slip away, and instead she left a deep gash in its chest. As it screeched in pain, she drove her sword right in its beak, cutting it short as the Grimm started to dissolve.

A tree falling to her left surprised her and she turned to it, instantly focusing on the Ursa Major that was barreling through and rammed into her with such force that she stumbled back, finally able to find her balance again when she leant against a thick tree behind her. Still, closing her right gauntlet tightly, she stomped her foot like she had seen Yang do so many times before, and drove it right against the Ursa’s thick head, the bone-plating crumbling instantly.

But just as she was returning her attention towards the quickly falling trees and guessing the Megoliath was finally about to make an entrance, she noticed, in the corner of her eyes, a lone, Alpha Beowolf slipping passed and behind her, and as she turned, she saw herself, standing still with her rapier planted in the ground, and entirely defenseless when using her knight.

She wasn’t quick enough to keep the Grimm from deeply sinking its claws in her abdomen, and she saw the blood darkening her pale clothes just as an armored boot kicked the Grimm into nothingness, and for a second, she felt her focus wavering, her vision blurring as sharp, searing pain made her fall to a knee.

But when the Megoliath trampled out of the forest and even killed a few fellow Grimm at its feet without any regards to its minions, she pushed past the pain, shook her head, and stood, firmly pulling her blade from the ground.

The fight wasn’t over, and therefor, she couldn’t lay down her weapon to rest, one final time.

Still, the Grimm outnumbered her, and they attacked all at once. She felt every claws and fangs sinking in the thick, hard armor without experiencing pain, and she managed to kill a few of them by grabbing them and sending them rocketing to the ground, or kicking them and stomping on them. Still, when the Megoliath charged, she knew she wouldn’t survive if it rammed into her.

Dropping her sword as she braced for the impact, she grabbed each tusk and, chiding herself all the while as she knew brute force wasn’t her strength, tried to muscle out the gigantic Grimm, her feet sliding in the dirt at the immense force of the Megoliath. With a scream that never left the helmet of the knight, she twisted the tusks in her grip, managing to tip the balance of the colossus, and with a bit of a wrestle, it finally fell to the side, snuffing out the Grimm under its great weight.

Slipping her foot under the handle of her sword, she kicked it up and into her hand, twisting to add more power to her swing and brought the blade down with enough force to cause a tremor herself, the large blade sinking well into the ground as it cut clean most of the head of the Megoliath.

The few Grimm that remained gathered for one last attack, and as she pulled her blade from the ground to intercept them, she stumbled, needing to lean on her sword to find her balance. But as she straightened her back again, stomping her foot and managing to at least catch one of the two that were sprinting towards her, the world tilted as she wasn’t able to catch her breath.

The pain she could feel was overwhelming now, and she used her last strength to bring down her sword on the Ursa that was nearly to her still form, even managing to grasp the Beringel that leapt from a nearby tree and squeezed it with enough force for it to dissolve around the gauntlet’s fingers. But when she turned to the last two remaining Grimm, another Ursa and a Boarbatusk, the ground moved under her, and her vision blurred.

Snapping her eyes open when she leant on her bad leg and crying out in pain as soon as she did, she fell to her knees as she could see the towering knight slowly fall to the ground, dissolving into white petals that reminded her of Ruby’s Semblance, and she felt her limbs heavy, like lead had filled her bloodstream instead, rending her arms useless.

Still, she looked down as she pressed a hand to her stomach, and grimaced when she saw the amount of blood was staining it when she pulled back her hand for a second. It was hard to catch her breath, now, the exhaustion of having used her knight for so long mixing with the fatigue of her wounds, and she blearily blinked, trying to clear her vision as she could hear the rushing of hooves coming towards her.

Not willing to admit defeat yet, she raised her weapon, the tip swaying, unsteady, but she would meet her fate head-on just as she always did, and waited for the opportunity to strike.

The Grimm, smaller than most of the ones that attacked her before, curled on itself and spun towards her with lightning fast speed, but she waited, scraping the last of her focus into one place.

A handful of paces away, the Boarbatusk uncurled and, with its great momentum, lunged at her, sharp, deadly tusks forward. And until the last second, she stayed still.

At the right moment, she rolled onto her shoulder, and as the Grimm fell and rolled too, she pounced when it was on its back, going for the only part that wasn’t covered with heavy plating and contrary to the others she had seen: its belly.

She crumbled on herself as soon as she heard the Boarbatusk release a final, long grunt, and she allowed her blood-soaked hand to slip from Myrtenaster’s hilt, her eyelids feeling suddenly far too heavy to keep open. As she was about to let them fall, a roar, much closer to her than she liked, started her as she slowly, wincing, turned to it.

The last Grimm, an Ursa Major with spikes taller than her protruding from its back, rose on its hind legs and roared again at her, and she blindly searched for her weapon, patting her blood-soaked hand in the dirt until her fingers bumped into it. But even if she knew she was far too weak to fight it, she raised her weapon still, unwilling to admit defeat.

She could barely hold her head up, couldn’t stand even on her knees and her breathing was uneven and ragged, but she wouldn’t admit defeat. _Never_.

As her thoughts went all the way up the road, her last thoughts always for Yang and, now, for Ivory too, she saw a flash of red surging from the neighboring trees and hit the Ursa straight in the head, making the large Grimm stumble on its feet, right before it fell on its back, and started to dissolve.

Unsure of what took the Grimm out, she blinked again, fighting for her eyes to open, but let her rapier fall to the ground, the thin blade far too heavy for her weakening arms, and after glancing around and failing to identify what had landed the fatal blow, she left it at that, figuring that whatever it was, it spared her, and she turned towards the road.

Still with an arm pressed against her stomach, she grunted as she pushed a hand to the ground, leaning on her good leg to stand, and with barely putting her weight on her injured leg, started hobbling forward, dead-set on going back to Yang, to Blake and Ivory, to this family she wanted to be a part of.

The smallest rock of all of Remnant managed to make her trip and she fell on her front, hard, expulsing all the air from her lungs in a long, agonising groan, but after somewhat catching her breath, she brought her free hand above her head, sank her fingers in the dirt, and crawled forward.

Each breath burned her lungs, now, and it came out wheezing as it raised a cloud of dust in the dirt, but she didn’t care. Her injured leg pounded with her heart, and she was so frigging cold, but she didn’t care. She was surely leaving a trail of blood as she slowly, agonisingly slowly crawled a few paces forward, but she didn’t care.

She wanted to be with Yang again, and she wouldn’t let death keep her from the woman she loved more than anything in the world.

Her arm gave out from under her, and she was left there, her cheek pressed in the dirt as her blood pooled under her, and she could hear her own breathing coming out in weak rasps. All this time, all those years alone, when she thought Yang hated her, this moment would have been gladly welcomed; but now that she was just within the gasp of finding happiness again, of feeling loved again, the thought of falling asleep only to never wake up again terrified her, and she fought against the exhaustion, grunting, and forgoing the pain, tried to crawl again.

But her body didn’t move. Not her arms, not her good leg, not even her eyelids, that she was fighting so valiantly for them not to close on this endless darkness that was filling her with terror, but she knew it was only delaying the inevitable.

Still, just before darkness took her, she saw a pair of black boots stop right in front of her, and she heard the person sighing as the distinctive sound of a blade unsheathing followed. Then, she noticed a blood-red sword lightly sinking in the ground beside the boots, and a white helmet that called to the Grimm’s rested on the other side of the pair of boots.

Just as she was thinking she should know what this meant, she felt hands jostling her around, and consciousness escaped her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! <3 There will be an epilogue for this story that I already started working on!

**Author's Note:**

> Already most of the second chapter is written, only have to finish it! Should be soon! (Or not... :B)


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